Who You Belong To
by deansgirl369
Summary: After a lifetime of yearning, maybe it's time. Angst/Jealousy/Romance/not completely PWP Chapter WINCEST
1. Chapter 1

Yet another bar. Sam groaned inwardly. He had almost opted to stay in the room again and do research, anything but see this. But the idea of Dean out flirting, trying to get laid, or even putting on the pretense, ate at him. More than he wanted to admit. Surely by now he should be used to it. Dean garnered attention everywhere they went, and he seemed to feed off of it, savor it. Sam had dealt with that all his life, why was it bothering him so much more lately?

The place was small, dark and generally smelled like the bottom of an ashtray, assuming the ashtray had been soaked in stale beer, and other unsavory things he tried not to think about, for years. How was this fun? To anyone? He wished yet again that he hadn't come, but mostly he wishes neither of them were here.

He watched Dean surreptitiously as he took another swig of his beer. Some blonde girl was already sidling up to him, practically pressing herself against him as he hustled pool. Dean could charm just about anyone, and hustling pool made them most of the cash they ever had on hand, but it also went hand in hand with hanging out in places like this and watching Dean pick up an endless string of women who were never good enough for him, not that Dean would agree. Dean never had had any inclination how incredible he was, other than his looks, he never had held his own worth anywhere close to the esteem Sam felt for him.

The bartender stepped behind Sam and set another beer next to his almost finished one and he glanced up, a questioning look on his face. She smiled and tilted her head toward the bar, "Compliments of the brunette at the end."

His eyes flashed immediately to a pretty, dark haired girl who was waggling her fingers at him and smiling almost shyly.

'What the hell?' Sam decided, mentally shrugging, and picked up the beer, heading toward her. Choosing between watching Dean work his magic on yet another girl and talking to someone who was interested in Sam? Sam decided it wasn't even close.

Dean noticed immediately when Sam stood up. He tracked Sam's movement out of the corner of his eye as he left the table he had been sitting at to head toward the bar. 'What the hell?!' His brother was moving to sit with some brunette skank. Seriously, he could almost see her panties, that skirt was so short. He wasn't happy about this turn of events. Usually Sam kept to himself, that is when he deigned to come along at all when Dean worked the bar scene, and Dean liked it that way.

The blonde who was pressed against Dean noticed his already inattentive gaze had strayed even further, and was not pleased. She pressed her not unimpressive chest further into his arm, letting him know.

He resisted the urge to push her away, instead putting on his sexiest Dean smile and wrapping his arm around her waist, dragging his eyes away from Sam, who was now chatting up the skank, leaning close to hear her above the loud country music coming from the jukebox, close enough that it looked like her lips were touching that curl resting just at Sam's ear.

When Sam pushed the bar door open and stepped into the fresh cool night air about half an hour later, he wondered if it was safe to go back to the motel room. The last thing he wanted to do was walk in to the sights and sounds of Dean banging that nasty girl he was sure he had left with, but fuck it, he was going back to the room and to hell with them.

The Impala was nowhere in sight as he turned to walk toward their motel, hands in pockets and head down. Luckily it was only a couple of blocks away. Nice. He loved that Dean just left him stranded. Thinking with his dick, as usual.

'Damnit,' Dean thought, pulling into the motel parking lot less than an hour after leaving with the blonde. It wasn't often he had a hard time getting it up. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Tonight he finally decided he would screw some random chick and try to relieve some tension for the first time in months, and he couldn't get Sam out of his head. He couldn't concentrate on the task at hand, instead finding himself wondering what or who Sam was doing.

It was getting worse. He had dealt with these feelings for enough years that he thought it was under control, pushed down far enough inside himself that he didn't have to deal with it constantly. Sure, it made it a lot easier that the kid usually didn't get laid himself. He didn't like watching Sam making his puppy dog eyes at some bitch, looking up through that mop of hair Dean had an intense fascination with, or flashing those sweet dimples.

Looking at the door to their motel room, Dean wondered if Sam had brought _her _back here. He knew he wasn't prepared to walk in and see _that_. So he decided to sleep in the car. Besides, it would keep up the image that Sam had of him as the ultimate ladies man, out all night getting some.

Sam sighed and flopped over, trying to get comfortable. Dean hadn't come back to the room, and he hated that. He hated sleeping without the comfort of knowing his big brother was just a couple of feet away, within reach.

Usually when Dean hooked up, he was back in the room to sleep. Sam didn't like when he walked in, that shit eating grin on his face, letting Sam know he had slept with yet another random girl, but it was better than him not coming back at all. He reached over and grabbed the remote, resigning himself to a sleepless night, or at least until his brother sauntered in.

* * *

"Dude, you are crankier than usual," Sam eyed his brother across the table. Dean also looked like he gotten even less sleep than he had. Surely that meant enough sex that he should be in a lot better mood, right? "You were there all night, seriously, weren't you able to get it up or something?"

Dean jerked slightly, an almost shiver going through him. Sam had nailed it exactly. But at least he didn't know he was right or God forbid, the reason. "Yeah, right, Sammy," He cocked a half grin that he hoped was as nonchalant as necessary at his little brother, "as if that has ever happened to me. I just didn't get much sleep. She was demanding, man."

Sam just turned his attention back to his food. He was sick of looking at the smirk on Dean's face, knowing that he was remembering something Sam would rather not know about, let alone think about consciously.

"What about you, dude. You aren't exactly all sunshine and rainbows this morning. I'm guessing your attitude is for the opposite reason. Didn't get laid again last night?" Dean watched Sam's face surreptitiously, hoping that he could get an accurate read on what had happened last night.

Refusing to listen to more teasing, Sam decided to lie. Or at least let Dean think things had gone way better than they had. "Right. I had a great night, and I'm not telling you anymore than that. I'm not a freak like you, and I don't feel the need to share that kind of shit."

Dean felt his gut clench. "Sure, Sammy, I'm sure she was totally impressed with your skills. What with you being such an expert and all." He was suddenly glad they were headed out of town for a new hunt today. He didn't want to think about Sam not only sleeping with some random bitch, but if he started getting attached to her and wanting more…well, that was just something he wasn't ready to deal with, at all.

"So, Sam. Where we off to next?"

Sam flipped open his laptop to read Dean the details he had found this morning of what looked to be a woman in white case in a small town a few hours away.

_____________

Spending all day in the car with Dean could be so many things. Depending on the mood he could be fun, or he could be wired, or he could be sullen and withdrawn. Today was sullen and withdrawn and those were the days Sam hated the most. Usually those days he just tried to curl up and sleep against the window. Besides, today Sam felt pretty shitty himself. He hoped this new thing with Dean staying out all night with random women wasn't going to become a habit.

Sam didn't sleep well without Dean. Course, lots of times he couldn't sleep at all because of Dean, times when all he could think about was how Dean had looked coming out of the shower, or when he woke to hear Dean jacking off and that always made him uncomfortably hard, but he knew he had to pretend to sleep.

Dean's eyes flickered to Sam. His baby brother was sleeping, so he allowed himself to watch. If Sam awake was sweet and innocent then Sam sleeping was almost angelic. It reminded Dean of when they were little and Sam didn't have any concept of the monsters that were waiting for him.

He loved watching Sam sleep, because it made him feel content in a way that few things ever did. It also created that curling heat in the pit of his stomach, made him want to reach out and run his fingers through Sam's messy hair, or along the soft lines of his lips. Sometimes, when he knew Sam was deep enough in slumber, he allowed himself just a moment of that, just a brush of fingertips. But rarely, because if Sam caught him, well, who knew what he would think.

Before he realized what its intentions were, his hand had reached out and sifted softly through the locks at the back of Sam's neck. He drew back after that, looking at his hand like it belonged to someone else. Thank God Sam didn't react, because this was NOT one of those times when he was sure it was safe. What was he thinking? Hell, he knew. Really. It was all that damn thinking, wanting he had been doing, and knowing that whateverhernamewas from the other night had touched Sam like that. He hated her for that, for being able to freely touch Sam after knowing him for all of an hour, when Dean had yearned for it for so many years and was allowed only stolen, fleeting moments.

Sam held his breath, waiting for that touch again. What was that for? And that sigh. Dean didn't sigh. But it had felt so good, so right and he wanted to latch on, to hold it there. It had taken every ounce of willpower he possessed not to lean into the caress, to moan and ask for more. Instead he waited and willed Dean to do it again, and when it seemed like it had been hours, he gave up hoping and just lay there wondering what it meant, until he actually did fall asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The run of the mill salt and burn they accomplished in less than half a day, with no major catastrophe. Dean had been slammed into the wall by the ghost, and Sam was pretty sure he was hurting, but no one was bleeding or lost any limbs, so overall they called it a good day and a success.

Checking into the first cheap motel they came to, Dean announced he was going to shower and then try finding either a pool game or maybe a hand of poker to raise a little cash. After all, the night before had been a bust. He hadn't tuned in enough or stayed long enough to even make a few bucks.

Surprised and agitated when Sam once again said he would come along, Dean couldn't resist a taunt, "Gonna try to get laid twice in one week, Sam? That would probably be a record for you, huh?"

Sam just gave him his standard eye roll and refused to rise to the bait. He wasn't sure he had anything to say that wouldn't give him away somehow. Better to take the abuse than risk saying something that he was really thinking. He was just too close to the edge, his feelings too raw lately, between trying to figure out Dean's moods and his own escalating longings. He was going to try avoiding spending the whole night watching Dean pick out his next lay, and just get drunk and forget for a while.

Two hours later they were in a bar, the only one in this little crap town. Dean was drinking more than usual, and had practically snarled at the few women who had approached him. He was not in the mood, mostly because he was tired and hurting and damn if he wasn't thinking about Sam way too much again.

'What the fuck?' Dean practically flew across the room to his baby brother's side, grabbing the asshole's arm from around Sam's neck and slamming his face into the bar in one fluid motion. "You don't touch him, you fuck. Actually, you don't even look at him, let alone talk to him. Got it?"

He wasn't sure who looked more confused, the guy who had suddenly found his face pressed to a dirty bar by some random stranger, or Sam.

'Shit.' How was he going to explain this away? 'Damn, Dean, you are certainly one smooth fucker.' Dean tried to get his breathing under control. His jaw was clenched so tight he was afraid he would hear his own teeth cracking inside his head. He had just lost it. He had been skirting the razor's edge all night, watching this guy come onto Sam. But when he saw him throw his arm around Sam and lean in like he was going to kiss him, something inside him had just snapped. Obviously. Now what?

"Sorry, man. I didn't know he had a boyfriend." His voice was muffled because he could not only not move his mouth from the foul smelling bar top, but Dean's hand was still pressing the side of his head down painfully.

"Just keep your filthy hands to yourself," Dean warned, giving him one last shove before grabbing Sam's arm and practically dragging him out the front door of the dive.

Sam stumbled along after Dean, unable to form a fully coherent thought, "What the fuck, Dean?" He jerked his arm from Dean's too tight grasp, "What the fuck?"

Throwing open the door of the Impala, Dean dropped into the driver's seat and started the growling engine, barely waiting until Sam had closed his door before screeching out of the parking lot.

Sam got his breathing under control and turned to Dean, "Seriously, I need to know what is wrong with you? Where did all that come from? What was all that?" Shaking his head in complete bewilderment, Sam refused to look away.

"I…well, I just thought he was bothering you, Sam." Dean knew how lame his excuse sounded, hell, it sounded like bullshit to his own ears, but he didn't know what else to say. No reasonable explanation came to mind, and besides, he could hardly hear himself think past the roaring of blood in his ears.

"Bothering me? You tore into him like he was trying to kill me, not just talking to me. Geez man, you are weird. You have been seriously fucked up lately."

Sam realized suddenly that Dean hadn't corrected the man when he assumed they were lovers. Probably just the heat of the moment, but Sam liked the feeling it gave him, so he turned it over in his mind, storing it to take out later and enjoy later. Right now he was too drunk to really analyze it.

Dean practically growled at him. "Sorry if I cock blocked you back there, dude. Want me to take you back so you can fuck that guy?"

Sam jerked back as if he had been slapped. "What? Seriously, are you possessed or something? I have no idea what you are talking about."

"He was fucking you with his eyes all night. He wanted you, Sam. I didn't know you were into that sort of thing, but if I had I wouldn't have ruined your mojo."

This was insane. Sam wasn't just confused, he was stunned. Last he knew, Dean had been playing pool and flirting with every random chick yet again while Sam was casually talking to some local farm boy, wishing he was back in the room doing research, or better yet, back in the room with Dean, even if they were just watching tv and having a few beers. So what had happened that brought all this about?

Something must have happened. Maybe Dean had lost a lot of money, which would be unusual. Dean hustled pool like he was born to it and Sam couldn't remember the last time he had lost, usually coming away with enough money for them to live on for weeks after just a few hours of the game. But even that wouldn't really explain the crazy outburst. Maybe Dean was wound too tight and it was time for a break from hunting for a few days.

They were quiet the rest of the way to the motel, both immersed in their own thoughts and unsure about talking, or what should be said if they did speak.

Dean's insides were so knotted up he felt like he was sick. Which he was, right? I mean, being insanely jealous of your brother just talking to some guy in a bar?

He was sure the guy had different ideas about the outcome of that conversation than his brother did, but just knowing that the guy was watching Sam, thinking about all the things Dean envisioned: what Sam's mouth tasted like, what it would feel like to put his lips on that long throat and feel Sam's heartbeat under his mouth, how Sam would look laid out under him, begging to be fucked, the noises Sam might make during sex.

Just thinking about that fucking freak, some nobody with no fucking right, wanting and imagining those things from Sam made him want to seriously tear something up, destroy something, beat someone bloody.

When they pulled into the motel parking lot, Sam was out of the car without another word, or even a look. Dean just hoped Sam thought Dean was overwrought, and had no concept of the reason behind the outburst. He knew that if Sam ever caught even a glimpse of the need Dean had for him, he would leave again, leave Dean behind, holding his bleeding, shredded heart, knowing he would never feel normal or good again. He wasn't sure he could do that again. The little pieces of Sam that he was allowed to hold weren't nearly enough, but they were enough to keep him sane.

By the time Dean entered the room, Sam was already in the bathroom, and he could hear the sound of the shower starting. Just knowing Sam was in there, probably already naked pushed him even further in his edginess. So many times he imagined going into the bathroom while Sam was showering, about taking off his clothes and slipping in with him.

Damnit, he had to get this shit under control. He had dealt with these feelings for so long, why were they so overwhelming lately? Time to get back to normal, or whatever a messed up freak like himself could call normal.

Dean was sitting on the end of his bed, flipping through the limited channels available in this shithole of a motel when Sam came out of the bathroom, still dripping and wearing nothing but a low slung towel around his hips. Dean forced his eyes not to linger, and instead focused his attention back on the tv.

Catching the quick glimpse from his brother, and not sure what was up with Dean lately, Sam shook his head, and rummaged through his backpack, coming up with a pair of clean jeans and a soft, faded t shirt.

Dean clenched his jaw and studiously avoided looking toward his brother as he dressed just a few scant feet away. Damn, it was like lately Sam had been trying to push him over his limit without even realizing what he was doing. All the fucking touching and brushing up against him. Now he was getting dressed in plain sight, which meant first getting completely naked in plain sight as well.

Sam glanced over to see if Dean had even noticed his little strip show, but as usual, Dean appeared lost in his own world. But not the happy go lucky Dean world, this was a tortured, heavy world and Sam was starting to worry. For the last three weeks or so Dean's focus had been turned in on himself and that felt all wrong, something was weighing on him.

Sam went to the bed Dean was on and sat down close to his brother, close enough that their thighs almost touched, and Dean's eyes flickered down to the point where their thighs lay side by side.

Bumping Dean's shoulder with his own, Sam grunted softly. "You ok, Dean?" Sam watched the back of Dean's neck, focusing on the soft whorls of hair that he longed to brush with his lips. He was so tired of fighting it, so tired of all the pretense.

He had been brushing up against Dean recently, just casual bumps as they passed at the bathroom door, or a fingertip brushed over wrist when handing his brother a beer, nudging Dean with his shoulder when they walked side by side. Just generally crowding Dean, pushing him, seeing what kind of reaction he could get, and, if he was honest, just enjoying the sensation of touch. If it bothered Dean, or if he even noticed, Sam didn't see it.

There was the one incident, just two days ago, when Dean had ended up with glass shards decorating the palm of his left had. He had dug them all out with the point of his knife, Sam watching with a grimace on his face and a need he wasn't sure he could name in his belly, until finally with a quiet "fuck it" Dean seemed to give up on one, tossing his knife onto the dresser.

Sam had walked over and taken Dean's hand in his. Dean didn't recoil, they had patched each other up too many times to remember, too many for it to seem odd or out of place. But then Sam dropped his head forward enough so his hair covered at least part of his face, while raising Dean's middle finger to his mouth. Darting his tongue out, he ran it over the soft pad of the finger until he felt the tiny piece of glass, then nipped at it softly, trying to get it out with his teeth.

Dean sucked in a huge, silent breath and held it, unable to tear his gaze away from Sam's mouth on his skin, that soft tongue running over his flesh, his cock immediately hard and throbbing. And then Sam drew his finger into that hot, wet mouth and sucked and Dean almost came instantly. Those few seconds felt like an eternity and yet were over so quickly he wanted to cry out. Then Sam grunted softly, laying Dean's wounded hand softly on his own thigh before spitting the splinter into his hand.

Sam had immediately pushed up from the bed, heading for the bathroom under the pretense of washing his mouth out, but he didn't. He ran the water while he tried to get his own erection under control and held that flavor in his mouth, that taste of Dean's blood and the taste of Dean's skin in his mouth. Sure that in all of Dean's sordid life, that combination of things was something only Sam had experienced and he didn't want to wash it away. He wanted to clutch it to himself and commit it to memory.

And in those minutes apart, they both got themselves under control, and neither of them had mentioned it, just went about like it, as so many other recent touches and brushes and bumps hadn't happened or didn't matter.

But that was weird in itself, right? I mean, how many touches had Sam allowed himself to actually take over the years, and now with all these recently, Dean had said nothing. No strange looks, no shoving back at him, not even a complaint. Sam laid that thought out in his mind and dissected it. Sam was good at cataloguing with his mind, tearing down a problem and putting it back together to make it work, to explain it, understand it.

So, Dean wasn't annoyed by the touching, that seemed obvious, because he never had hesitated to tell Sam to 'knock it off' when he was aggravated by anything. That was interesting.

Bracing himself, Sam decided to take it one step further, not enough to push Dean into acknowledging what he was doing, but enough help him gain a clearer picture of where they stood with this whole mess. Sam leaned down and just brushed his lips over his brother's nape, barely even disturbing the baby fine hair there.

A shiver coursed through Dean, who had been holding himself still, so still ever since that hot hard thigh of Sam's had laid up against his own.

Then it happened, so subtle Sam might have missed it if he wasn't so very aware of everything about his brother, wasn't tuned into him from a lifetime of being so close, closer than brothers, closer than lovers, like two halves of a whole; Dean leaned into the caress, and Sam felt that minute adjustment like a wave crashing over him.

So Sam gave Dean what his body was silently asking for. He opened his mouth and tongued the back of Dean's neck, savoring the flavor he dreamt about, yearned for since…forever. It tasted like coming home, like what he imagined it would feel like for someone who had been paralyzed all their life to suddenly feel their legs, to feel all of themselves for the first time. He thought he might weep with the feeling.

Dean's breathing hitched, and Sam's mouth made its way from the back of his neck around the smooth soft skin up toward Dean's jaw line, licking and running his lips over as much of that bared beautiful flesh as he could reach.

Finally Dean lost whatever inner battle he was fighting, and he turned with a gasp into Sam, coming over him and on top of him in one fluid motion. "Sam?" He didn't want to stop, didn't want to ruin whatever moment they were having, but he had to make sure this was what Sam wanted, what he really was asking for.

"Please Dean, kiss me, please. Want so much to taste your mouth."

Dean crushed his mouth over Sam's, open and wet and diving inside immediately to find all the places he wanted to conquer, to draw into himself. Sam tasted like innocence and sex, and Sam. Like everything Dean wanted all in one delicious, heart stopping flavor.

They were frantic now, practically clawing at each other, pulling hair and slanting mouths, desperate to get closer, to get it all as soon as possible. It was too many years in the making to be careful, to be slow or cautious.

Sam's hands were under Dean's soft t shirt, skimming over all that gorgeous skin and muscle. He had wondered so many times what it would feel like to touch Dean, how different from touching a woman. And the answer was, it was a different thing altogether, a perfection even in his daydreams and fantasies he hadn't contemplated.

"Off," Sam demanded as he pulled the t shirt up, then sat up enough to pull off his own before dragging Dean back down. The touch of skin to skin drawing a hiss from Dean and a moan from Sam.

Dean stopped kissing Sam long enough to drag his mouth over the soft skin of Sam's cheek, then jaw, dropping a quick sucking kiss to the soft vulnerable spot he had focused on so many times just behind Sam's ear, barely covered by that disheveled hair. Sam was writhing beneath him and against him, and damn if it didn't feel like they fit like two pieces of a puzzle.

Continuing his biting, licking kissing down the column of Sam's throat, Dean sucked another quick bruise to the juncture of Sam's neck and shoulder, feeling Sam's hardness press into his belly as he drug his body down his brother's.

He knew he was sucking too hard, that his mouth, frantic on Sam's torso, had to hurt, but he couldn't seem to control it. He needed more, more of Sam's flavor, his essence flowing out from Sam's skin and into his mouth, soothing his heart and soul. Nothing was too much. Hell, nothing was enough.

He was biting and licking and sucking at Sam's flesh, knowing he was marking him over and over and it didn't matter. No, that wasn't true. It did matter, he wanted to know that under those layers of clothes tomorrow he would have a mental map of all those marks that he could see in his mind's eye as he sat across the table from Sam, acting for all the world as if they hadn't fucked, hadn't made love, hadn't taken and given everything of themselves tonight. He dipped his tongue into Sam's navel, swirling and lapping.

Sam was up on his elbows now, belly quivering, watching Dean lick him and brand him with his mouth, and this was the most surreal moment of his life. How had it finally come to this? A lifetime of need being fulfilled by this one precious human, the only one who mattered.

Dean's hands shook, from a combination of desperate need and nerves, as he drew the button of Sam's jeans through its hole and unzipped them as quickly as possible, unable to slow his movements no matter how badly he wanted this to last. He could only hope that there would be another chance, another million chances for all the other ways he needed Sam to come to fruition. Leaning up long enough to pull his brother's jeans and boxers down and off long, muscled legs, he drew in long, steadying breaths and started to settle back between Sam's thighs. "Damn if you aren't incredibly beautiful, Sammy."

"Your's too, I want to see you too, please, Dean." Sam's eyes were flicking between Dean's darkened green eyes and the straining bulge of his erection.

Ridding himself of his own jeans and boxer briefs in one quick motion, he kept his eyes on Sam's, his own excitement ratcheting up another notch as he watched the lust blow out his brother's eyes, latched onto his dick, hard as he could ever remember it being and moist with his own pre come.

Before he could lean down to take Sam's own weeping erection into his mouth as he had been anticipating, he found himself jerked from his kneeling position to under his brother in the blink of an eye. Sam smiled down at Dean, too many emotions to register shining from those eyes.

Sam began his own exploration down Dean's more compact frame after kissing him hard and deep one more time. He licked a long swath down Dean's neck, dipping his tongue into the hollow at the base his big brother's throat, then dragging his teeth along his clavicle, sucking his own mark there, enjoying the gasp of pleasure pain from Dean's lips when he bit and sucked too hard.

Fingers digging into thick pectoral muscles, Sam latched onto one of Dean's pebble hard nipples, nipping and laving the tight bud before moving to treat the other to the same pleasure. Dean's fingers twined in Sam's hair, sifting and clutching the silky strands. Apparently Dean's nipples were really sensitive. Sam catalogued that fact in the back of his mind, smiling into the now moist skin before moving down his body, his fingers lingering to pull and pinch the now sensitized skin as he licked ribs and taut stomach muscles, treating each ridge to a drag of teeth and tongue.

Sucking a bruise onto the jut of Dean's hipbone, Sam looked up into his eyes and held them as he rose to breathe a hot sigh over Dean's cock, teasing him as long as he was able to stand it before licking a long stripe from the base to the head, lingering at the sweet spot just underneath. Dean groaned and his hands fisted painfully in Sam's hair, but Sam loved it, loved that he was making Dean lose control like this.

Sam held Dean's cock softly by the base, and aiming it upward just enough, drew the whole length in with one fast motion, causing Dean's hips to surge up off the bed. When his dick hit the back of Sam's throat he almost lost it and then was brought back to himself enough for control when he realized what had just happened. "Sammy, I'm sorry. I…" He wasn't sure what to say, but Sam was shaking his head and smiled.

"Nothing to be sorry for, Dean, I want you as deep in my throat as I can get you, you aren't forcing me." He went back to sucking, drawing groans out of Dean as he took that huge cock deeper into his throat with every downward stroke.

Dean pulled hard on Sam's hair, "Stop…Sam, stop. I'm gonna lose it…" His breath hissed in through clenched teeth as Sam pulled off of him with one last swirling lick around the head.

Moving back up Dean's body, Sam smiled, despite the painful throbbing of his own unrelieved erection.

After he caught his breath for a moment, Dean looked up into Sam's beautiful face, watching the hazel eyes as he hesitantly asked. "So…I don't know. I mean…I've never done this…have you thought about whether you'd want to be…I mean…"

Sam smiled as he rolled them both onto their sides, urging Dean back on top of him. "Hell yes, Dean. I've thought about this so many fucking times. I want you inside me. So bad."

"You sure? Cause I hear it hurts." And a dawning realization came to his eyes. "Sam? Have you already? I mean, with someone else?" Dean could hear the panic in his own voice, the neediness, and he hated it, but he wasn't sure he could stand to hear Sam say he had wanted anyone else this way.

Sam's brow furrowed for a second, "No. No Dean, never done this. Never done anything like this. I'm not gay, I'm just…I'm just yours, I guess." He blushed and his eyes slid away.

"Don't hide from me Sam." Dean whispered, humbled by the words.

"I…have you, Dean? I mean, its not like…" He fumbled, not sure how to ask, but needing to know.

"No. Never, guess I belong to you too, Sammy, cause you are the only guy I ever thought of like this, ever."

Kissing once more, once again frantic with need, and now with a new aspect to the urgency, they rubbed against each other, both on the razor's edge of coming completely undone from the situation as well as the words spoken.

Raising his head just enough to see Sam's face again, Dean panted harshly, "What are we gonna use for lube?"

"My backpack, side pocket."

Dean's eyebrow shot up questioningly but he didn't hesitate to fumble for the backpack laying next to the bed and grunting softly in triumph when he located it.

He kissed Sam hard on the lips and leaned back, his knees between his little brother's thighs, and looked down at how Sam spread out for him. So ready and anxious, so fucking beautiful it literally took his breath away. Spreading a large amount onto two fingers, Dean leaned forward as Sam lifted his knees, placing his feet on the bed.

Kissing the slick head of Sam's cock, Dean pressed a finger against his brother's puckered entrance, his finger sliding in fairly easily. He moaned softly against the hard muscle and soft skin of Sam's lower abdomen, tongue licking out to stroke the hard cock so close. He twisted his finger, enjoying the soft tightness surrounding his digit.

"Dean," Sam groaned, "More please…mmm. Please."

Dean pushed another finger in to join the first, feeling a slight tensing of Sam's rectal muscle, but it was easier going than he expected, and he raised slightly questioning eyes to Sam. Their lifetime of connection pushing to the fore, Sam seemed to read his brother's mind through those glowing green orbs.

He blushed again, or maybe it was blushed hotter, because he was pretty on fire in every way at this point. "I…well, I told you I have thought about you doing this forever. So, I have used my fingers…" He trailed off, partially out of embarrassment, and partially because he could hardly catch his breath between the sexiness of Dean's face resting so close to his aching prick and the incredible pressure of his fingers massaging the inside of his ass.

"Please, Dean, I need it. I'm ready…just come on. I want to feel that gorgeous cock inside me. I've waited so fucking long." Sam gripped Dean's biceps, urging him to raise up and give him what he so desperately wanted.

Dean settled his hips between Sam's spread ones and Sam immediately encircled his brother's narrow pelvis with his long legs, drawing him close, ready to start begging. But he didn't need to, because Dean was pressing the head of his cock against that slick entrance, groaning and dropping his head back when it slipped inside, only to be gripped tighter than he could have imagined inside Sam. Dean jerked slightly, trying to go slow, but his hips and thighs were trembling with the effort.

Unable to stand how slow Dean was moving now that they were finally joined and he was getting what he wanted so badly, Sam drove his hips up into his brother, pushing Dean deeper. That pushed Dean past his ability to think and he slammed the rest of the way in, pausing to glance down and make sure his brother was ok, that he hadn't hurt him.

The look on his little brother's face was the breaking point and Dean pulled out almost completely and pushed back in, his body overwhelmed with the delicious tight pull of Sam's body. Damn, he had never felt anything so tight and hot. He could feel the tight pull low in his abdomen, feel his balls tingling with the need to release.

"Let me see you, Dean. I need it, look at me, big brother." Sam pleaded breathily.

Their eyes locked as Dean's hips undulated, pushing as deep as he could go and slamming out and back in with a frenzy he knew was going to make him come faster than he wanted, but hell, not only did this feel better than anything so far in his life, but the sight of Sam spread beneath him, eyes blown wide with his own swiftly approaching orgasm was too much. Sam was keening quietly with every stroke, angled just right for Dean to hit his prostate with every movement.

"Holy fuck, Sammy. Come for me." Dean reached down and fisted Sam's dick, pulling and twisting in time with his thrusts, "Show me how good it feels. I'm so close, baby, come with me….come."

Groaning and crying out, they came almost in unison, Sam spewing his seed across his own belly and up Dean's just moments before Dean pulsed out his own release deep within Sam.

Collapsing down onto his baby brother, Dean felt like his heart was going to explode from his chest. He thought he had experienced everything with all the random hook ups in his life, but this was beyond anything.

They laid there, entwined and gasping for long moments, Sam's release slicking between them while they attempted to catch their breath and come to some understanding of what had just finally happened.

Finally, Sam raised a sluggishly heavy arm to Dean's sweat slick back, rubbing the nape of Dean's neck and hair softly, thinking how this spot was how it had started.

"Dean?" He was hesitant, the fear that Dean would be sorry or upset by what had just happened clenching in his belly, "You ok? We ok?"

"No." Dean said quietly, and smiled against Sam's skin when he felt the instant tension, "I don't know about you, but I'm fucking awesome, man. You felt incredible to me, baby. I hope it felt anywhere close to that for you."

Sam pulled hard on Dean's hair, "You fucker. You scared me." He forced Dean to look up at him despite his exhaustion.

"I didn't hurt you too bad, right Sam?" Dean looked deep into Sam's eyes, knowing Sam never could lie to him.

"Dean, you have no idea. I thought I would come just from you pushing inside me. No matter how many times I thought about it, I had no idea it would feel that fucking good." He licked Dean's lip with little flicks of his tongue. "Next time, your turn." He smiled.

Dean bit down on Sam's lower lip and grunted dubiously, but he had already thought about how much he wanted to feel Sam buried deep inside him. "Ok, but I'm gonna need a lot more prep than you, Sam. I haven't been preparing for that like you."

Sam looked embarrassed and cringed.

"Don't." Dean demanded. "I think its hot as fuck that you did that thinking about me. I'm gonna make you show me. Soon."

With that, they snuggled back in, sleep overtaking them both within moments.


	3. Chapter 3

ok, so this is getting longer than intended, but those bunnies are demanding to be heard as much as dean and sam are at this point! please let me know what you think! =}

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Dean didn't realize he was digging bruising fingers into his own thighs as he watched Sam through the Impala window. He was too focused on what was going on inside the bookstore to notice, not that he would have cared about the bruises anyway. The shift in their relationship, this whole situation was new, but it hadn't taken him long to feel possessive. Hell, if he was honest even with himself he would have to admit that he had been possessive of Sam even before they had become so much more.

Sam hoped Dean was watching, because, even though the guy actually was cute, not that he could hold a candle to how gorgeous Dean was, Sam certainly wouldn't be openly flirting with him without a purpose. After all, Sam was in a place with Dean that finally felt like home, like he belonged and fit for the first time in any real way in his whole life.

He was more than content, he was deep down, soul achingly happy, but he doubted Dean believed that. So, he cocked his head and looked up at the guy from under his disheveled bangs, flashing what Dean called his 'puppy dog eyes', and a hint of deep dimples.

Later Dean wouldn't know for sure where the bruises came from, but he slammed his fists into his already slightly abused thighs when he saw 'that look' from Sam. His Sam. His look. It wasn't his imagination, Sam was flirting, and it was eating him up.

When Sam finally got into the car, he looked at Dean, and was disappointed at the lack of response. Dean barely glanced at him, and he would have taken that as a possible sign of jealousy, but Dean seemed totally relaxed and unaware of anything that he had tried to set up back in the bookstore. Damn, he had been looking forward to jealous Dean, and all that might entail now that they were…well, whatever they were. More than just brothers and best friends, finally.

So when they arrived back at the motel room later on that afternoon, basic information in hand and bellies full from another greasy diner, Sam was unprepared to be thrown up against the doorjamb, face to the wall, before he was two steps into the room, or the quiet, dark voice so close to his ear. "Did you get his number, Sammy?"

Anyone who didn't know Dean better than his own face wouldn't recognize the voice for the dangerous warning it was, but there was no mistaking the fingers encircling his wrists, pressed up against the wall, or the body crowding him close, just close enough to feel raging body heat, but not the satisfying press of that muscular body.

"Answer me, Sam. Did you get his number?"

Sam's breath hitched. He had asked for this, and deep down he knew with a soul deep knowledge that Dean would never hurt him. But that voice caused his heart to stutter, and he was instantly scared. "Uh…" he shook his head, as if he really was confused, because his brain suddenly wasn't working the way it should. "What?"

"Don't fuck with me Sam." Dean let out a huff that could have been mistaken as a laugh if it wasn't so obvious that he was no where near a laughing place right now. "That guy you were flirting with this morning…did you think I didn't see you? Or that I just wouldn't fucking make you sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me his number." Sam's reply came out soft and hesitant.

Dean wasn't really prepared for that answer. Despite seeing the flirting, he had been certain Sam hadn't intended to actually see the guy. What the fuck? His anger was starting to get the best of him, and now he was scared.

Scared of how much this whole thing could really hurt him, because right now his gut was already feeling like it could chew through his flesh, fear cranking up the anger about ten notches. "So, you wanna fuck him, Sam? Is that it? Maybe my dick isn't enough for you. You plan to see him tonight, give him what you were promising with those fucking looks earlier?"

Sam wasn't sure this was playing out the way he intended. He wanted to make Dean jealous, cause, hell, Dean jealous was one of the hottest things ever, and Dean had a lot of hot sides. But now he was pretty sure he had fucked up, and needed to backtrack, make it right before he ruined this…this everything he had finally found with Dean. "No. No, Dean…I…"

But all thoughts were driven from his head as Dean pressed against him with his whole body, shoving Sam into the wall, grinding his hips against his little brother almost violently. "Shut up, Sam. Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear it. Apparently you need to be reminded who you belong to."

Sam's insides twisted savagely at those words. Oh yes, he wanted to be reminded. Wanted Dean to show him just how much he belonged to him. This was still so new, this acceptance of what he had always known, felt and wanted deep inside himself, and he wanted reassurance that Dean felt it too, at least a little.

Dean's mouth came down hard and open and wet against the side of Sam's neck, just below that silky fall of hair Dean couldn't get enough of, and he sucked. Sucked hard, and bit down on the tendon as Sam stretched for him, opening himself to Dean's mouth and teeth, breath coming heavy now.

Dean sucked until he tasted blood, bit until he knew it had to hurt, but Sam didn't resist, didn't complain, hell he was trying to lean into it, wanting it, and still it wasn't enough. Tomorrow it would be almost black, that brand. The symbol that said Sam belonged to him, there for anyone to see, for everyone to see, but mostly for Sam and Dean to see. To remember.

When Dean finally let go and drew his head back to see his work, a deep satisfaction filled him, but the fear and jealousy was still there, hard on his back, and inside him. "Tomorrow, we go back there. You get to look at your fucking boyfriend and show him my mark on you. And I will be there, Sam, right over your shoulder, pressing my cock against your ass, right there in front of him. And maybe I'll make you tell him that you belong to me."

Dean wanted to know that it was possible, that Sam would go there, actually do that for him. "What do you think, Sammy. You willing to show him whose you really are? Tell him?"

Sam's breath was heaving out of him like he had run a marathon and damnit, but Dean hadn't even touched him yet, hadn't done anything but mark him, and remind him that he was wanted, finally wanted by this extraordinary human who was his whole world. "Oh God, Dean. Yes. Yes."

Dean wasn't sure he wouldn't really do it, wouldn't really force Sam to face that asshole, that presumptuous bastard who thought he could move in on what belonged to Dean. He might just need to see the look on his face when Sam let him know that he realized his mistake and was paying for forgetting who owned him. But he would take all that out and examine it later, later when he watched his baby sleep, peaceful and worn out from the things Dean intended to do to him before then.

"Suck," Dean reached around and pushed two fingers into Sam's mouth, Sam opening immediately and taking them in. Dean bit back a groan at the feel of Sam's hot wet mouth around his digits, unable to keep out the thought of how that beautiful mouth would feel on his cock.

Putting his mouth against Sam's ear, Dean growled softly, "Work them, baby. Work my fingers with that gorgeous mouth, show me how you want to suck my cock. Do a good job, show me how bad you want it and I might let you taste my dick. Maybe."

Moaning deep in his throat, Sam did as he was told, sucking Dean's fingers, showing him how good he could make it if Dean let him suck his dick, let him get on his knees for is big brother and show him how sorry he was, how sure he was that he knew who owned him, mind, body and heart.

Dean was trying to control the thrust of his hips into Sam's hard ass, afraid he was going to push himself over the edge just from this feeling of Sam sucking his fingers desperately. "Do you think you deserve to suck my dick, Sam? After wanting to fuck that guy? Maybe you don't want to belong to me anymore." Dean hated hearing the need in his own voice, and the fear that maybe he was right.

"God, no Dean. No, please. I didn't even intend to actually see him. I swear." Sam's voice was gruff with his anxiety. "Just you…I only want you." He was trying to keep the desperate, pleading tone from his voice. Shit, shouldn't he have limits to how much he could let Dean know the power he held over him? It was frightening, because he knew he would do anything for Dean, let Dean do anything to him, and that couldn't be good, could it? He couldn't see any limits even in his own mind.

"Whatever, Sam. You must think I'm really stupid. Shut up." Despite his hope that the words Sam had said were true, he was afraid to let himself believe almost as much as he was afraid not to.

Putting his fingers back to Sam's mouth, Dean ground his hips into Sam, pressing him hard to the wall. But when he realized Sam was starting to rub himself against the wall, he backed off. "No," he ordered, and pulled Sam's hips back, his fingers digging into denim clad flesh hard enough to leave marks. Reaching around, he unzipped his brothers jeans, shoving them and the boxers underneath down around his thighs. "Don't fucking move."

Dean didn't take his eyes off his brother as he quickly retrieved the bottle of lube from the nightstand, immediately releasing himself from his own jeans and slicking a generous amount around his throbbing length. Pulling Sam's right hand from the wall, he squirted lube onto his fingers and commanded gruffly, "Work yourself open for me. Let me see how much you want it. Make it quick, and be glad I'm not just taking you dry as punishment."

"I don't need it, Dean, I…I want it to hurt. I'm sorry, just…just do it."

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up, Sam. Now do what I fucking told you to do. Unless you really don't want it and just want to stop now." Dean was no longer touching Sam, wanted to make sure Sam knew it was his choice, despite the orders he was spewing. He never wanted Sam to stay in this relationship, or do anything because he felt any obligation.

Sam whimpered and looked at Dean, hoping to express how much he wanted to be there, to do this, always. What a stupid fucking idea. Making Dean jealous had backfired in an ugly way, and he wanted to make things better. But right now he was so hard it hurt, he needed Dean so badly, he frantically moved to do what Dean had asked, groaning Dean's name as he pressed two fingers into himself, holding his brother's gaze as he did so.

Dean's eyes flicked between what Sam was doing and Sam's face, gripping the base of his dick when Sam moaned his name. Shit, Sam could push him over the edge so easily. If he knew how much he needed this, needed him…damn, he would be so fucking vulnerable.

"Please, Dean. I want you, need you inside me. It's not…I'm ready, please."

Dean stepped up behind Sam and grasped his hips, digging his fingers into the flesh he had already left fingerprint bruises on, drawing another moan from his baby brother's lips, and slid into him in one long slow thrust. Groaning as he bottomed out into Sam, Dean laid his forehead against the younger man's back, getting himself under control and letting Sam adjust to the pressure.

But Sam wasn't letting him go slow, he pushed back against his brother, silently asking for more, and Dean pulled back and slammed in, hard and fast, over and over.

When one of Sam's hands left the wall to curve around his aching dick, Dean stopped moving, clenching his teeth with the strain, "No, Sam. You come like this. You come just from having me buried deep inside you, fucking your ass. You don't touch yourself."

With those words, Dean sped up his thrusts, angling himself and Sam's hips to brush against Sam's prostate with every stroke. Sam keened and panted, his head thrown back, tendons taut. Unable to resist that temptation, Dean once again leaned in and drew his teeth along the line of Sam's long throat before latching on and biting down into the muscle.

"Yesss." Sam hissed out and his hips jerked frantically several times.

He lost it when Dean breathed into his ear, "That's right, Sam. Come for me, come. Show me how fucking good it feels to have my dick slamming into your ass. Claiming you. Come."

And Sam lost it, a half scream half groan that was Dean's name torn from him. Dean closed his eyes, biting back the moan that welled up at the feel of all this, and of knowing it was Sam, his Sammy that he was buried in. He wanted to make it last, because what if…God forbid, what if this was the last time? But, the clenching tightness of Sam's release drew Dean's own within moments, and he bit back a cry, afraid that if he let it out, it would be a plea.

They stood there for long moments, Dean trying to catch his breath, Sam tense and worried despite the incredible orgasm that had just flowed through him.

Finally, stepping back and pulling out of Sam with a hiss, Dean turned and went to the bathroom, wiping himself off and bringing a damp hand towel for Sam. Sam was standing where he had left him, but with his back against the wall, fear and a question in his eyes.

Dean cringed as what had just happened really registered in his befuddled mind. Maybe he had hurt Sam and now he was afraid…of him. Damnit, that was the last thing he wanted. He had been furious, true, and having to push it all down the whole day while it ate at him from the inside out had created a bit of a monster by the time they came through the door. But, he never wanted his brother to be afraid of him.

"Fuck. Sam, I'm sorry. I don't know...I'm so sorry. Please tell me I didn't hurt you, that you aren't really as scared of me as you look right now." Dean brushed his knuckles softly down Sam's cheek and along his jaw line. "I let my jealousy get out of control and…well, I…just lost it."

Sam shook his head, "It was my fault, Dean. I wanted to make you jealous, and I know that was stupid. I guess I needed to know if I could or something. I dunno. Now that I say it, it sounds so fucking lame." He trailed off, but his eyes never left Dean's tortured green ones. "But you didn't hurt me. Shit, did you not see what just happened? I came without you even touching me I wanted you so bad. You would never hurt me."

"Then why do you look scared, Sam? Don't try and lie, cause I can see the fear in your face."

Sam stepped closer to Dean, wanting so much to embrace his older brother, but not sure it would be welcome. He had really messed up and there was fear, just not the kind Dean thought. "I am scared…terrified that I just messed up. That I ruined this, this thing. You and me…that you will pull away from me or…"

Dean pressed his body into Sam's, walking them both to one of the beds, and dropping onto it, pulling Sam down on top of him. "Mmmmm." He shook his head as if to clear it. "You see how I reacted, Sam. Does it seem like that? Like it made me not want you? It made me crazy, Sammy, to see you giving him those looks. My looks, looking at him the way I only want you looking at me. I thought I was going to come out of my skin when you looked up at him through your fucking hair and flashed those dimples at him. Don't do that anymore, ok, Sam? I want that, all that, just for me."

Groaning and releasing his breath in a half laugh, those words so precious he wished he could taste them, Sam nuzzled the side of Dean's neck, breathing in that beautiful scent of leather and sweat and Dean that made his heart race. "I'm really sorry, Dean. It was just an act, I swear. I was just trying to get a reaction out of you."

Pulling Sam's hair to lift his face to see into his eyes, Dean growled. "Not good enough. You were flirting Sam, and I didn't like it. It hurt and made me crazy. No more, ok? Mine, only look at me like that, got it?"

"K, Dean. Only you." That would be easy, Sam thought. His heart was singing with all this talking Dean was doing, and the words…well the words felt so good he thought he might burst. "Yours." He wrapped himself around his brother, holding on to everything that mattered.

'Mine,' they both thought before falling asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, people, I am feeling uninspired despite the bunnies who demand to be heard and the chapters I had planned, so…maybe reviews will help? I hope you enjoy, cuz that's the point, right?! Let me know please!

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The last two weeks had been a blur of movement; research and hunting. They had covered eight states and twelve towns in that time. There had been minor injuries, nothing they weren't accustomed to, but no time, let alone energy. for much more than a few stolen kisses and furtive touching under covers before falling into exhausted slumber every night.

It was still the most content Dean could ever remember feeling. He often woke before Sam and just lay watching his baby brother sleep, running his fingers through Sam's overly long hair. He probably needed a haircut, but he couldn't bring himself to mention it, for fear Sam would again end up like that one idiot barber had left him, with his hair nearly as short as Dean's, which had almost made Dean want to cry a little. Sam's hair was way more important to Dean than it should be.

They were due for a break, and Bobby had told them they were welcome to borrow the cabin of a fellow hunter any time they were in the area, and today was finally the day for that. They had decided to head to the secluded area this morning and were planning to stay for the next week at least.

Unless something urgent came up, Dean intended to stay for two weeks, just soaking in Sam and doing all the things that he had been storing up during this long wait where they had no energy to explore this new, exciting aspect of their lives and relationship.

"Jess."

Dean could have never guessed what one whispered word, spoken in sleep and without intent, could do to a heart. He felt like his had been taken out, twisted, torn and stomped on. He truly felt more pain that he could remember feeling, and his life had dealt him a lot.

By the time Sam came out of the shower, Dean had packed up the car and was ready to leave. He hadn't even been in bed when Sam woke up that morning and it felt so cold to wake up for the first time in weeks without his big brothers body wrapped around his, somehow colder than before he knew how it felt to sleep snuggled up to Dean's naked flesh.

Throwing on his clothes and glancing around the room to make sure nothing was left behind, Sam tossed his backpack over his shoulder and closed the door behind him. Dean was coming out of the office, and they met at the car. Sam looked up, but Dean got in the car without any acknowledgement.

Sam's breathing hitched as he looked at Dean. He could sense something was wrong, really wrong.

After five minutes of driving in silence, Sam couldn't stand the uncertainty anymore. Almost afraid to ask, but unable to stop the tumble of words from his lips, Sam questioned, "What is it? What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean drew a deep breath and flicked a glance at Sam, "Not now, Sam." But his voice was off, wrong. Dean sounded defeated and achingly sad. Sam's fear ratcheted up another notch, and he reached out, running his fingers along Dean's neck.

Jerking as if burned, Dean shook off Sam's fingers, "No, Sam. Seriously, not now. I don't want to talk about this now. We'll talk when we get there, ok?"

Dean didn't want him Sam touching him, and Sam was terrified, unable to stand the wait, and he dug a fist into his belly, trying to get to the pain. "Dean. I can't sit here and not know. I can fucking see something is wrong, and it can't be worse than the things I will imagine if I sit here worrying about it for the next two hours. So, please…"

"It was wrong." Dean's voice sounded choked and small.

Sam thought he was going to buckle under the weight of those little words. He had no doubt in his mind what Dean was talking about, though he wished to God he did. He wasn't able to form a coherent sentence for a few long minutes, fear and pain slashing through him life knives.

"No." He gasped finally. "No Dean. Don't say that. You can't. I can't….I can't go back to the way it was. Please don't be sorry about what happened. Don't leave me…"

Dean refused to look at Sam. He was doing the right thing. Sam was needy, he wasn't over Jess, and he had probably just transferred all those feelings to Dean when he had been presented with the opportunity.

Sam needed all those things Dean had taken from him. He needed normal, deserved it. A wife, 2.3 kids and a white picket fence. He heard that one word this morning and knew he was wrong for doing what he had done. Sam would never go out and find all those things again if Dean didn't end things now, give him a chance for normal.

"It's just wrong, Sam. We can't do…that…anymore. I'm not leaving you. You are still my brother, the most important person in the world to me. We just can't be like…that." He had never hated words so much in his life, didn't want to hear himself saying what he knew he had to say. Dean hurt so bad, from the inside out. He couldn't think of a single part of him that wasn't aching right at that moment.

Sam was shaking his head, and his arms were wrapped around his middle. Dean glanced at him finally, and could feel the same pain radiating from his baby brother. "No. I won't let you. You can't take this from me. Please don't do this to me. "

Dean didn't know what else to say. He knew this would be hard, but Sam was taking it worse than he expected. But, in the long run Sam would be happier, and that's all that really mattered. Since the day Sam had become his to take care of, he had always known that Sam's needs had to come first. So no matter how badly Dean hurt inside, he would do this, too, for his Sammy.

"I'm gonna be…damnit…pull the car over, Dean." Sam gasped out.

"What? Why?" Dean wasn't sure what was going on, but the sound of Sam's voice urged him to do just that, he pulled onto a side road, leaving the road to park in a small field.

The car hadn't completely stopped when Sam flung open his door and staggered out. Falling to his knees, he threw up.

Dean fell to his knees next to Sam and put his arm around Sam's heaving shoulders, only to be flung off violently by his little brother. "Don't fucking touch me, you bastard. Don't you fucking pity me." Sam threw up again, his body purging everything inside, like it was trying to expel the pain, the misery, the agony.

Feeling completely worthless, Dean knelt there, close but no longer touching Sam, unsure what to do, suddenly feeling like all he could offer were words, which had never come easy to him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I…hell. I shouldn't have done those things to you. I'm just so sorry. What can I say to make it better?"

Sam's eyes were wet and blazing when they turned on his big brother. "Fuck you, you self righteous prick." His voice broke on a gut wrenching sob. "Just fuck you, Dean. I don't think it was wrong. It felt right to me. I guess you think I'm sick for that, don't you? I wanted those things."

"Damnit, Sammy. I don't mean 'wrong' like in the moral sense. Hell, in this fucked up life of mine, I don't know what's right or wrong like that. I mean I'm trying to do what's right for you, for your life." Dean's eyes pleaded with Sam. He didn't realize he could hurt more, fuck, was there no limit?

"Right for me? How would you know what's right for me, Dean? How bout you realize I'm a fucking grown man and can decide for myself what I want?" The words were so harsh, coming from Sam's raw, burning throat, but the tears continued to flow, dripping from his clenched jaw.

Dean slumped, what little fight he had left in him draining out like sand from a broken hourglass, and his body just shrunk in on itself. "I know, Sam. And I know you love me enough that you would stay if you thought it would make me happy. And that's not right. I can't take away your chance for more. For all those things you have always wanted. A wife and family, a normal life. I'm so sorry I fucked up."

"What I've always wanted Dean?" Anger was starting to outweigh Sam's pain. "Do you fucking know me at all? Do you ever listen to me? You are what I have always wanted. Always. I told you that, but this isn't about me or what I want. You decided this shit on your own and you get to take the credit. Own up to it. You don't fucking want me, want this, with me."

Dean sat there for long moments, fighting an internal battle with himself. He owed it to Sam to explain, but damnit this was just too much, he was hurting so badly he just felt like he was being torn apart.

"You dreamt about her last night, about Jess. You called out for her in your sleep." Dean hadn't wanted to say it, to hear himself say the words, even though he knew they were true. "You might say this is what you want, but in your sleep, when you aren't lying to me or yourself, the truth comes out, Sam."

Sam punched his brother in the face. He had never wanted to punch someone so hard in his whole life. And he was ready to punch Dean again, until he realized that Dean had fallen, but was back on his knees, and wasn't going to fight back. His face, that beautiful, perfect face was bleeding and broken in more ways than one and he was going to just kneel there and take it, no matter how many times Sam hit him.

"I had a fucking nightmare. I saw her, the way she was that night. Burning and screaming. Damn you, I wasn't exactly moaning her name in ecstasy, or thinking about white picket fences and babies." Sam spat the words at Dean, his anger still at the fore. "Now what, Dean? Now tell me your excuse. Why do you really not want me?"

Dean could taste his own tears. He wasn't sure how long they had been flowing down his face, but his breath was coming in sobs now, and his head fell forward as if he could no longer hold it up. He couldn't even recognize all the emotions that were rushing through him like a raging rapid, let alone come to grips with it al. Almost wishing Sam would just hit him again so he would have something to focus on, Dean knelt there like he was praying, head bent, all the fight gone out of him.

"Dean?!" Sam taunted, shoving at him, emotionally and physically, "Come on, tell me. I want to know how you are going to push me away without Jess or a fucking 'normal life' as a reason."

Sam wanted to pound his fists into something. To tear his hair in frustration. The heat was going out of his own anger, fear and sadness once again overwhelming him, and his voice came out small and low. "What did I do to make you stop wanting me? I know we haven't been…you know…but it's not because I didn't want you…"

Lips crushing down on his stopped Sam's words. Dean was all over him, hands grasping and digging, clutching in Sam's unruly hair, while his mouth smashed Sam's almost painfully. "Shut up, Sam. Shut up, please." He gasped, his tongue seeking entrance and finding it, invading and searching out the taste and feel of Sam.

Drawing back when he thought he would pass out from lack of oxygen, Dean choked out. "There is nothing you could ever do to make me stop wanting you. Not a fucking thing. God. I was so scared, so goddamned scared."

Kissing Sam again, his hands framing his beautiful baby brother's face and jaw. "I need you Sam. Like I need air, but I thought that you wanted that. Wanted normal, wanted more than I could give you…"

Sam was clutching Dean's back so hard his fingers were going to leave dotted bruises where they clung, dug into ribs and hips. "There is nothing more. Not for me, you are everything, Dean. Everything. I love you so much, and if someone gave me the choice between having what you call normal, all those other things and you. I pick you. I pick you without one second's hesitation, every time, Dean, every fucking time. You are my normal. All I've ever wanted."

"Just me?" Dean asked, hating how small his voice sounded, how pleading.

Sam shook Dean hard, once again unsure how to get through that thick skull of Dean's. "No such thing, Dean. 'Just you' is so fucking much, you have no idea. I was only with Jess because I thought I couldn't have you, only with _anyone_ else because I thought you wouldn't want me, would hate me for wanting you so damn much."

Dean wasn't sure what he had done in his fucked up life to deserve this, but he leaned into Sam, thanking God or whatever gave him Sam. No one had ever wanted Dean just for Dean, certainly not knowing what a mess he was inside.

He didn't know why Sam, perfect, beautiful Sam did, but he was so grateful he felt overwhelmed with it. "I love you so much, Sammy, so damn much. I thought I was going to die having to watch you leave again. I don't know if I could have lived through it." Dean's voice was strained as it rasped in Sam's ear. "Tell me what to do. Tell me what I have to do to make you stay, to make you keep loving me. I need you, need to keep you, Sammy. So you have to tell me how."

"Dean, just trust me, believe in us. I need to know you are in this and aren't going to give up and push me away like this ever again. I can't do this…this…ever again, and I can't live in fear of it happening every time you freak. I just can't."

Dean's fingers were running through Sam's hair, and his words were muffled against Sam's throat. "I trust you, Sam. You have always had my heart, not that anyone else ever wanted it, but it wouldn't have mattered. My heart has been yours since you were just a baby."

Sam was stunned at the rawness of Dean's voice, his heart there in every rasped out word. He loved Dean so much in that moment he thought he might die from it, this gorgeous human being loved him and that was the best, least normal thing he could ask for.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam spent the rest of the drive tucked under Dean's arm, turned toward the passenger door, long legs spread across the seat, both of them lost in thought, but needing the physical connection after the upheaval of the morning. He wanted to touch everywhere on his big brother, to reassure himself that what Dean had said this morning was real, that he truly did love him and need him in the same way Sam had been needing for so long, but wasn't sure he wanted to question anything now.

Dean's stomach was still in knots over what had happened, and the feel of Sam's body heat seeping into his own felt good and was helping keep him under control. He had put it all out there this morning, nothing else left to hide and that was frightening. But it was time, they were in this thing and halfway wasn't going to cut it.

They stopped and ate at a diner not long before arriving at the cabin, it looked to be a last chance kind of place, since there had been fewer and fewer places as they drove toward the lake and away from civilization.

The waitress now flirting with Dean was cute, way too cute for Sam's comfort, especially considering how incredibly raw his emotions were after the confrontation; the strain and fear still fresh and painful. And, never a chance missed, Dean flashed her a big smile and called her darlin' and cutie.

Shit, seriously? He wasn't sure that Dean even really registered that he did those kinds of things every single time. It was like he had no filter on his flirting, no fucking control.

Maybe that should have been a good excuse, maybe if not for the turmoil of the day it wouldn't have even mattered. But after Dean's reaction to Sam's flirting the other day, and then him being one word away this morning from ruining everything they had finally found, Sam was ready to snap.

But Sam hadn't spent his whole life hiding his innermost thoughts and feelings for nothing. He could play this game and not blink an eye. After all, surely no one had more experience at ignoring how much it hurt to see someone they loved flirting and giving themselves away like it didn't matter, than Sam.

So he sat there, little twinges of anger and frustration and jealousy digging at him, and just plotted. Oh, Dean would pay for this. He would be sorry, and then he would learn, learn that Sam could be possessive too. That Sam wasn't going to take it lying down. 'At least not every time,' he thought with a little secret grin. Sometimes Dean was gonna take it.

They found the cabin with very little effort, and were surprised by now nice it was. Not really what you might call a cabin, more like a really nice house, mostly glass, situated on a lakefront with a gorgeous view and modern furnishings. It felt like a palace compared to where they spend their nights, and that was when they didn't end up sleeping in the Impala.

Unpacking what little they owned in the world, they were both a little hesitant as they moved around each other in the bedroom, not used to one bed, but both excited at the realization that this was one more thing they would need to get used to, and it was something they were both secretly enjoying.

With no work to be done and both men unsure of the situation, tension hung thick in the air all afternoon. They were both lost in their own heads, uncertain how to settle into this thing, how to just 'be', especially after what had happened on the side of the road.

Sam flinched every time he noticed the split, swollen lip Dean had from where Sam had punched him earlier in the day. But he wasn't sure he was sorry about it. It had hurt too much, the whole thing. And it told him that Dean hadn't trusted in him, believed him when he said he had always wanted this.

After feeling like they had tiptoed around each other for hours, Dean finally sighed and told Sam, "I think I'm gonna lay down. I'm pretty wiped. Didn't get much sleep last night, and…" The rest didn't need to be said. Sam had been there. He knew.

Dean arched his back, he was waking up and his back felt sore, but as he came to awareness, he jerked. "What the fuck?" He realized both his hands were cuffed to opposite sides of the poster bed. His eyes flew open, only to collide with the hazel ones of his baby brother, who was sitting in a chair a few feet away, watching him.

"Sam?" He didn't understand what was going on. How had he gotten handcuffed to a bed…surely that was something he would recall. Last he remembered he had stripped down to his boxer briefs and thrown himself down on the soft bed. He had been out in moments, his body sinking into the most comfortable mattress he could ever remember laying on.

"Sam, what is going on."

Sam didn't seem concerned, but neither was he moving to unshackle Dean, or apparently to even explain. He just sat there, watching Dean, a wicked glint in his eye. He looked like he had a secret and, hell, he kinda looked pissed, but what the fuck, Dean was the one handcuffed to a bed, what did Sam have to be angry about?

Dean jerked on the cuffs, hard. The bed shook slightly, but there was no give to the headboard.

"Don't do that, Dean. You're only going to hurt yourself." Sam tried to sound scolding, but he was concerned. He knew Dean and his stubbornness. He would do himself damage if Sam wasn't careful.

"Let me out of these, Sam. What's goin on?" Dean jerked his arms again, making red rings around his wrists. Sam wanted to sooth him, but he wasn't going to give in.

"Dean. Seriously. The more you struggle the longer its gonna take for me to let you out. Just relax. And if you hurt yourself, I might have to punish you." Sam realized he was just trying that on for size, wasn't sure that threat was in him, but hey, maybe.

Looking at him with a scowl on his face, Dean snorted, "Punish me, Sam? You know better, cause eventually I'll get out of these cuffs and then we will see who is punished."

A shiver ran through Sam at that, and he wasn't sure how much of it was caused by a little fear and how much was intrigue at the idea. Later. He had plans for Dean right now, and he was going to have to reach back down inside himself and find that anger and frustration. He forced himself to remember the fear and agony Dean had put him through this morning as well as the jealousy of this afternoon.

"I wouldn't push my luck if I were you, Dean. Because right now, you are in no position to make threats. You aren't getting loose until I say so," Sam leaned close enough for Dean to feel the heat of his breath against his ear. "You scared me today. You hurt me. You almost fucked up everything we have waited our whole lives for. Oh, and there is the little matter of the waitress, Dean. I've had it up to my fucking eyeballs with you and your flirting, you letting people think they can have you for the asking."

Dean shuddered slightly, drawing a deep breath as if to speak, but Sam laid two fingers across his lips, "Shhh, I wouldn't say anything if I were you, Dean. You just listen for now. You think you get to go all cave man on me when I flirt but think you can put it out there like anyone can have a piece of you, any time? Wrong. Your ass is mine, and I intend to show you how that feels."

That voice, breathy and hot in his ear brought Dean to semi arousal. Damnit, the effect Sam had on him, he would have no secrets left. He felt more vulnerable because of his own need than the fact that he was chained to a bed with no possibility but to submit to whatever Sam had in mind. His belly clenched in anticipation of what his little brother might have planned for him, as well as a feeling of helplessness that he wasn't sure he liked.

"Sam, there is no need for…this." He jerked at the handcuffs again, earning him a slap to his bare thigh.

"No more of that, Dean. And, no more complaining. I have plans for your mouth as well as your ass, but if you can't be quiet, I won't hesitate to gag you." Sam leaned to look at Dean's wrist, seeing welts already forming where he was struggling. He ran his tongue over the abused flesh, drawing a hissing breath from Dean.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, and Sam raised an eyebrow as he looked up at his brother. "Unless you have something good to say, like 'oh yes, Sam' or 'please more', think carefully about that gag, Dean."

Giving the inside of Dean's wrist another wet lick, Sam raised up and pulled the blankets down, gazing at his brother's growing erection inside his underwear. He couldn't hide the fact that he wanted Sam, even if he was angry at being helpless. Sam ran his fingers lightly over Dean's muscled abdomen before slipping his fingers just under the waistband of the boxer briefs, just barely missing the top of Dean's erection, feeling the jump of muscle under his fingertips. Leaning down, he laid a hot, open mouthed kiss over the fabric covering Dean's hardness, leaving moisture where his tongue lingered. Dean pushed his hips up, wanting more, harder contact with Sam's beautiful mouth.

Sam backed off and slid his fingers under the sides of the underwear and dragged them down and off Dean's muscled legs, letting them skim the soft skin as he went, his eyes lingering on the hot cock so close.

Dean strained his neck to watch every movement of Sam's fingers and mouth. Just watching Sam look at his hardness brought a spasm to his dick. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. This was out of his realm of experience. He had no control and no idea what Sam had planned for him. But he was incredibly hot, and the thought of Sam being possessive did something to him he wouldn't have expected. Very hot.

Sam crawled over his brothers body, careful not to touch in any way. He hovered there, looking down at Dean's face, calling up his anger, remembering his pain, the things Dean needed to atone for. "You told me that I needed to remember who I belonged to. Apparently you need to do the same, Dean. No more bullshit freaking out and threatening to leave, and no more offereing yourself up like meat to rabid dogs. You are mine, and after tonight, you won't forget it."

Dean's pupils blew wide with those words. Fuck, 'controlling Sam' was a new level of hot, and he wanted to arch up into him, drag his body along the one so close, drag his lips down that throat to settle at his favorite spot at the juncture of neck and shoulder, drag his fingers down that cock that was separated from him by layers of clothes while he lay here vulnerable and naked, his need obvious.

When Sam's mouth crushed down on his, Dean opened to him, unable to control a moan when he finally drank in that flavor that was Sam. Their tongues entwined, and Sam was reaching, searching, relearning all the hot, wet softness that was the inside of Dean's sexy mouth. He sucked at the tongue that followed his back into his own mouth and then bit down hard on that plump lip that tempted him every minute of the day.

Then he was up and off Dean, standing next to the bed looking down over six feet of masculine perfection. And it was all his, not just because he had Dean physically restrained, but because he meant to claim it and make sure there was never any doubt again about either of them walking away from this. Dean was clenching and unclenching his fists, breath harsh and jerky, eyes closed.

He waited impatiently until Dean opened his eyes and looked up at him with a bit of challenge in his gaze. Then his hands went to the bottom of his shirt and slowly drew it up and over his head, watching Dean watch him. Dropping his fingers to the waist of his jeans, he saw a flicker of need in Dean's beautiful green eyes before he blinked hard, but his gaze remained there as Sam took his time sliding the button through the hole and dragging the zipper down over his straining hardness.

No matter how hard he tried, Dean couldn't hide his need from Sam, it was written all over that perfect face, and was evident in his breathing as he took in all that newly exposed lean muscle and golden skin. As Sam pulled his jeans and boxers down, dropping them to the floor and stepping out, he took his dick in his hand and slowly fisted his impressive length, eyes watching Dean watch him.

"You want this, Dean? Want me?" He taunted softly.

Dean paused and Sam felt a moment of uncertainty, and that moment makes him fucking furious again.

He grasped Dean's hair and pulled, knowing it has to hurt. "Do you fucking want me, Dean?"

Dean felt his breathing go even more erratic, and he breathed into the pain, letting it wash through him. He knows how much he hurt his precious baby and he deserves the pain, but doesn't want Sam to question this, not for one second. "Yes. God yes, Sam. I want you. Please."

Hearing those words, that 'fuck me' tone from Dean, caused Sam's heart to thud in his chest and for a moment he has forgotten to breathe. But Dean is leaning toward him, despite the painful grip Sam has on his hair. So he steps into his brother, pushing his cock down enough for Dean's tongue to dart out and lick around the head, reaching for more. So Sam gives it to him, he leans in and Dean sucks all of him into his inferno of a mouth, the wet sucking sound bringing a jerk to Sam's hips, pushing him farther in.

Dean sucks greedily, unable to move enough to get Sam imbedded as far down his throat as he wants to. He has never done this before, but all he can think is that he wants all of Sam inside his mouth, down his throat, and he loves the taste, the feel of Sam shoving into him. Pulling back and releasing his brother's huge cock with a slurp, he looks up, licking his lips. "Fuck my mouth, Sam. Use me. I want all of you. Do it."

Sam grimaced with the surge that goes through him at those words, at the sight of Dean's mouth, moist and open. And that's what he wants, so he stepped closer, once again fisting his hands in Dean's short hair, and pushed himself in, hesitating only slightly when he felt himself hit the back of his brother's throat before pushing in further, all the way. He thrusts over and over, feeling Dean's tongue lapping at him, his throat clenching around his length. And it feels like every muscle in his body is on fire, clenching to hold back, because this is incredible and he's afraid he will spill, and he has other plans for tonight.

Forcing his throat to relax so he can take all of Sam's length, Dean groaned at the feel of Sam as he begins to pump into his mouth, bottoming out into his throat. The vibration caused by that groan shoots up through Sam's body and he quickly pulls away, closing his eyes at the sight of Dean leaning with him, trying to keep sucking him.

After a few long moments to get himself composed as much as possible with the images still swirling around in his brain along with the sense memory of being deep throated by Dean, Sam leans down and kisses Dean once again, tasting himself mixed with Dean. Then, leaning just enough to reach, he again licks the soft underside of Dean's abused wrist before sucking that tender skin into his mouth, hard enough to bring blood to the surface, bruise it, feeling the erratic heartbeat under his tongue.

Shocked at the things Sam's mouth on his wrist, fuck, just his _wrist_ was doing to him, Dean gasped and felt a tingle in his belly that shot through his cock, causing a drop of pre come to slide down the length. "Please, Sammy."

Jerking slightly from the words and the need in that raspy voice, rougher than usual after Sam's abuse of his throat, Sam looked at Dean, seeing the lust pooling in green eyes, knew his own were a reflection of that desire. "Yes, Dean? What do you want? Tell me, I want to hear you say it."

"You, Sam. I want…you." It was forced out, Sam knew how hard it was for his brother to ask for anything, to appear weak in any way, but it was time for those barriers to come down, one way or another.

"I'm right here, Dean."

Dean huffed out a breath, need riding him hard. "Let me out of these cuffs, Sam."

"Ask me that or say anything else I don't want to hear, and I walk out of here. Leave you like this. I'm not kidding Dean, I will do it."

Shuttering his eyes, Dean looked away, trying to get himself in check. A frisson of apprehension going through him, though he knew Sam meant out of the room, not out of his life. It still wasn't easy to believe Sam wouldn't shred him again.

Sam gripped Dean's chin, forcing his eyes back to meet his brother's. "Don't even fucking think it. I mean it, Dean. If you don't start believing in me, in us, I'm gonna fucking lose it. Now wouldn't be the best time to push those buttons, man. Now, tell me what you want, or I leave this _room, _and you suffer."

Stepping away, removing all contact, Sam waited, holding Dean's gaze. He slid his hand down his own torso and began stroke his shaft, slicking the droplets sliding down his length. Dean's eyes fell to watch what he was doing and Sam saw his breath hitch, his lips parting to try to draw deeper breaths. "I'm awfully close, big brother. You just gonna sit there and watch while I jack myself off, leaving nothing for you? And then you don't even get to finish yourself? If you wait…"

"I want your mouth on me, Sammy. Fuck, I want to be inside you. Suck me, touch me…damnit… Anything…Please." Dean growled, but his tone was pleading, more pleading than his younger brother ever expected to hear.

Sam immediately joined Dean on the bed, careful to avoid direct contact. They were both too close to the edge. "Anything, Dean? That's what I wanted to hear." Sam knelt between Dean's parted thighs, and his hand went to the lube laying on the table next to the bed.

He squirted a generous amount onto his fingers and spread it down, resting his other hand on Dean's hard abdomen, feeling the clench of tight muscles. He rubbed his thumb in soft circles, soothing as he saw the dawn of recognition in Dean's eyes.

"Sam." Dean's voice was a question and a demand at once. He paused, waiting to see if Dean would forget himself enough to say something else. But he caught himself before he said anything more, biting his lip in uncertainty.

That look of vulnerability called to Sam. He knew Dean was scared to relinquish control, to submit to being taken like this, to let himself be opened up emotionally enough to anyone.

"Its ok, Dean, I'm gonna make sure you are ready. I wont hurt you. But I need this, and you need this, and its gonna happen." Sam's voice was steady and he felt confident that it was something they both needed, and he was ready to come out of his skin for want of it.

Continuing the stroke of fingers on Dean's smooth belly, Sam directed. "Lift your legs onto my thighs, Dean."

When his beautiful brother immediately complied, Sam smiled at him, feeling the love and trust it had taken. Looking back down, he slid his fingers along the crack of Dean's ass, spreading him open and finding the tight entrance. He slicked his fingers over that muscle, pressing just slightly, circling and soothing. Leaning down, he took the head of Dean's dick into his mouth, sucking hard while licking the underside of the shaft in one swift movement.

"God, Sam." Dean's back arched and Sam's finger slid inside, muscles relaxing and contracting around him. Sucking softly in rhythm to his soft thrusting, Sam pressed another finger in next to the first, slowly massaging and opening Dean.

"That's it, Dean, just relax…trust me." He whispered, breath panting at the feel of Dean gripping his fingers so tightly.

Dean felt the twinges of pain and breathed through it. It felt good, it hurt, but it did feel good, so much better than he imagined. After a few minutes of it, he felt a third finger being pressed into him and he fought not to clench. Focusing on the soft licking and sucking Sam was still doing, not enough, damnit not enough to push him over the edge while his attention was divided between that gorgeous mouth and the uncertainty and burn of having Sam's fingers inside him.

Sam finally leaned back, still softly thrusting with his fingers, opening Dean and preparing him. He watched his fingers as they disappeared inside his brother and he felt a surge of pre come leak down his cock. Damn, he had no idea it would be this hot to see this gorgeous man spread out under him. He looked at Dean's face and couldn't resist leaning in to kiss those swollen, full lips.

Dean caught his brother's bottom lip between his teeth and said, "Fuck me, Sam. I want to feel you inside me. I want it. Now."

Reaching up and releasing first one and then the other arm, Sam let Dean out of the handcuffs, wanting to feel his hands. He drew his left hand in and licked along the bruise he had created earlier.

Guiding his painfully erect cock to Dean's entrance, Sam held his breath. He was afraid he was too close, too fucking excited not to come the minute he made contact with Dean's slick entrance, so he gripped the base tightly and pressed in.

The feel of Sam's huge dick pressing into him was nothing like those fingers had felt. It was better, so much fucking better, and yet it was so much. Suddenly this slow press and incremental advance wasn't enough, and Dean thrust his hips up to meet Sam, imbedding Sam to the hilt.

They both moaned, gasping. It hurt. Dean had known it would but he just couldn't take the slow glide anymore. Now he wasn't sure he wasn't sorry. But Sam held himself still, despite the tremors running through his body.

Sam clenched his teeth tight and looked down at Dean, "You ok? I know that had to hurt. I'm so sorry. I…"

Seeing the concern on his baby brother's face, Dean ground out. "I'm…its fine. Just move." Something inside him was easing, and it was starting to feel good. Knowing that it was Sam inside him was making it better.

Moving slowly but barely controlling it, Sam pulled out, hissing at the incredible tight grip before pushing back in. Once he was sure Dean wasn't in too much pain, he allowed himself to move, to actually fuck into his brother, enjoy the sensations that were not only shooting through his cock, but all the way up his back, down his legs. Gripping Dean's ass, he adjusted them, fitting them together better on his downward stroke, and when this new position hit Dean's prostate, he reveled in the keen that came from his brother.

"You feel so hot, so tight. God, Dean, you feel fucking awesome. So awesome."

They were suddenly moving faster, both pushing and pulling, seeking that perfect fit that they could only achieve together. Dean was gripping Sam's biceps hard enough to hurt if he had had any ability to register any feeling other than the ones coming from his dick.

"Holy fuck, Dean. I'm close. Come with me." He reached between them to stroke Dean's own leaking shaft, but Dean caught his hand, laced their fingers together and just shoved up, seeking his release, wanting to come like this, just from the incredible feeling of Sam.

Within moments Sam's body jerked hard, slamming him deep into Dean's body, and he cried out, releasing his come deep inside Dean, that last stroke over his prostate taking Dean with him.

"Sam," Dean cried out as he came between their sweat slick bodies, covering both their muscular stomachs with his creamy load.

Collapsing and rolling them both to their sides, Sam panted harshly in time with Dean's own breathing.

Long moments later, Sam looked at Dean, his smile soft and almost shy. Dean reached up and ran fingers through his baby brother's sweaty disheveled hair. "Wow, Sam."

"Good?" Sam saw the bruise on Dean's wrist and he felt a warmth flow through him at that brand, his brand.

"Yeah, really really good." Dean leaned to kiss his brother, licking over swollen lips before settling to his favorite spot, in the spot between Sam's neck and shoulder, licking the sweat there before sucking long and deep. "Love you, Sammy."

Sam wanted to squirm he was so happy, "Love you, Dean. So much."

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Hope everyone enjoyed! Please let me know! The boys have one more chapter for this story, I think. =}


	6. Chapter 6

ok, so what was intended to be the last chapter, full of romance and resolution turned into nothing but smut. sorry it took so long to post, i had some trouble getting it out of the boys. hope you enjoy! guess there will be at least one more chap, if anyone is still out there who cares! If so, please review and let me know! =}

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The days at the cabin seemed to fly by. Too little time to enjoy the beauty of this new life, this acceptance of the giving and receiving of all the love they had stored up inside them for each other. Already it had been close to a week, and they were trying to cling to these precious days of bliss as hard as they were clinging to each other.

Dean lay in bed, wondering where Sam was, and what the odds were that he could coax him back into bed. Probably pretty good, but Dean worried that Sam gave in just to appease him sometimes. He worried that his need and desire for Sam was too much, overwhelming. Hell, it felt pretty overwhelming to him, so how could it not to someone not inside his fucked up head? This was just too new to be sure, and he didn't want to scare Sam, but it had been so long in coming for him, so many years of repressed need and, hell, love, that he wanted to tie Sam to the bed like Sam had him and keep him there, for a long long time…just memorizing every inch of his Sammy.

Drifting back off to sleep, Dean smiled as he contemplated tying Sam to the bed for the remainder of their stay here at the secluded cabin.

Dean jerked awake, unable to remember the specifics of his bad dream, but knowing that something had hurt Sam, hurt him badly. He had known Sam was dying, and he couldn't take it, didn't want to live either. His heart was pounding and he was out of the bed in a flash, the need to see Sam, to touch him, run his fingers over every inch of his living, healthy Sam more than he could resist.

"Sam?" Dean recognized the harsh need in his own voice as he called out for his baby brother, feet slipping as he rounded a corner on the slippery wood floor of the hallway. He had gone through the whole house now and no sight of Sam. He knew it was his own stupid fear, remnants of a dream riding him and making him so anxious, but he didn't like not being able to roll over and take Sam into his arms when he woke up any time, but especially now.

"Sam?!" Still nothing, and the house felt empty, and he knew that Sam wasn't even there.

Rushing out the back door, Dean skidded to a halt as he saw Sam leaning against a wooden post at the back of the porch. His eyes drank in the sight of his beautiful, long limbed baby, and he hurried over, throwing his arms around Sam's chest and burying his face in that silky hair and soft skin at his brother's throat. He laid an open mouthed kiss to Sam's neck, breathing in the scent that he could never get enough of. He could think of little that made him happier than mornings when just before he rolled over in bed to embrace Sam, he could smell Sam's essence on his own skin. Somehow he could never get enough, it was like a drug and the more he took the more he needed. "God, I love you Sammy baby. Love you so fucking much."

Sam smiled, putting his hands over Dean's where they were digging into his shoulders, arms gripping too tight for comfort. His smile dissolved into a slight frown of concern. "Love you too, big brother. Are you ok? What's going on?" Trying to turn into Dean's embrace, get a picture of what was going on by looking into his eyes, Sam was held still by sheer force. "Dean? Seriously, what's wrong? You're starting to freak me out."

His voice was gruff, and Dean almost let Sam turn then, until he realized that he had tears in his eyes. "'S nothing, Sammy. Nothing. Just missed you, that's all." Hell, he sounded like such a chick, he might as well have let Sam see the tears. Shit, he was breaking down with all this. It was just so much sometimes.

Sam stopped trying to turn, just leaned into Dean, stroking the hands that had loosened some, letting him catch a breath. It occurred to him that Dean must have woken up and worried, he was always worrying, no matter what he was willing to admit to. He took his role as protector so seriously it was just ingrained in him. "Aw, I'm sorry. I just woke up and was too full of energy. Just went for a run. Its so great out here, and I was enjoying the view." Sam almost added that he had woken up, and despite hours of mind blowing sex he was hard, and needy and sure that Dean would start to feel smothered if he kept climbing all over him every minute of the day, so he had to work off some sexual energy.

Opening his mouth again over that steady, strong heartbeat, Dean sucked on that length of muscled throat he loved so much, deepening the bruise Sam seemed to keep in that spot Dean enjoyed so thoroughly. He felt the pulse speed up, strengthen against his lips and tongue. He loved that Sam responded to him so quickly, so naturally. He sounded a little put out, "You coulda woken me up, baby boy. I…well, I wouldn't have minded helping you work off some of that energy you seem to have so much of…"

This time Dean allowed Sam to turn, their mouths immediately finding and clinging, searching, seeking. Sam's tongue invaded Dean's mouth and he sucked, hard, before pressing his own tongue into Sam's mouth and receiving the same treatment. They were both panting softly when Sam pulled back enough to meet Dean's eyes. "I didn't….well, I was afraid you would…shit, Dean, I don't want to put you off by how much I ne-, uh want you. How often."

Laughter bubbled out of Dean and he kissed Sam's mouth, hard. "I was just thinking the same thing, Sam. I was wishing you were still in bed with me and thinking maybe it was best you weren't so you didn't see that I was wanting you…again."

Sam smiled, rubbing his thumb along his brother's beautiful, wet, slightly swollen bottom lip. That mouth tempted him so often it was frightening. He wanted to do the dirtiest things to and with that mouth. "Damn, Dean, I guess we need to trust our instincts a little more and stop fighting every step of this thing." He licked that lip, then bit it, hard enough to draw a taste of blood.

"I fucking want you. Now. Hard." Dean gasped from the shot of unbelievable lust that pulsed in his groin from that bite. "I want to keep you in bed for weeks. I want more every time I get more. Shit, Sammy, you make me crazy."

Sam's hazel eyes widened and he drew in a sharp breath at those words. "Yes. That's what I want, yes."

Dropping hard to his knees, Dean pulled Sam's loose sweatpants down as he went, his mouth immediately finding and latching onto a spot on Sam's lower abdomen. Sucking and licking that soft skin over hard muscle, he looked up at Sam as he grasped his cock and drew the head into his mouth, sucking hard.

"Fuck yes." Sam's voice came out in a harsh yell. "Dean." He groaned his brother's name as he watched those beautiful lips slide down the shaft of his already rock hard cock.

Eyes drifting closed, Dean sucked Sam all the way to the base, flicking his tongue over every inch of velvety skin before creating a deep suction and pulling back. Groaning deep in his own throat, Dean took all of Sam back in, this time pushing him farther into his throat, wanting to take all of this beautiful cock as deep as possible, make it feel so good Sam would never wonder if it was too much for Dean. Never question how much he was wanted and desired. Working him over, sucking and licking, Dean groaned again at the slurping noises he could hear himself making. He ran one hand up Sam's body, he paused to twist and flick one of Sam's nipples before pressing his fingers to Sam's mouth.

Sam was on fire, his hips thrusting jerkily as he fucked into his brother's gorgeous wet mouth. He was panting and moaning and practically begging as Dean loved him orally. Just the sight of Dean on his knees for him made him ache with want, created a pulse and throb in his belly. When Dean pressed fingers to Sam's mouth, he immediately opened, sucking the fingers in and licking along and in between.

Sucking Sam, having his long length in his mouth and in his throat had Dean hard and aching, and when Sam sucked his fingers his hips jerked and he felt pre come trickle down his shaft inside his own sleep pants. But now, now was for Sam, to show Sam how much he wanted him, needed this. Pulling his spit slick fingers from his brother's mouth, Dean nudged Sam's legs apart and brought those fingers to his ass, seeking and finding the puckered ring of muscle.

Sam twitched, his cock releasing a small jet of pre come onto Dean's tongue as he felt those fingers, wet from his own mouth, press and find entrance to his body. His head fell back and he relaxed his muscles as he felt the slow inward glide, coupled with the incredible suction and licking of his cock. He was getting so close, it was threatening to overtake him.

When Dean's fingers started fucking him in time with the suction of his mouth, and then he crooked his fingers to press hard against that bundle of nerves inside him, Sam wrapped his fingers into his brothers hair and lost control. Fucking hard into Dean's throat, then back onto his fingers, Sam screamed as his orgasm overtook him.

Dean felt Sam's release deep in his throat, and he smiled. He knew his throat was going to hurt, but it felt so good it would be a sweet sweet ache. Releasing Sam's softening cock with one last long lick that drew a twitch from Sam, Dean carefully withdrew his fingers and laid his face along his brother's hard thigh, fingers wrapped around muscular butt cheeks.

Not sure he would be able to remain standing if he wanted to, Sam sunk to his knees next to Dean and sighed. Taking his face in both his hands, he kissed Dean softly, tasting himself on his brother's lips and tongue and reveling in the knowledge that Dean enjoyed doing this for him.

Dropping his head onto Dean's well muscled shoulder, Sam sighed contentedly. "Let's go back to bed, Dean."

Dean was still aching and hard, but happy to have Sam back in bed, even if he was sated and sleepy. He wrapped Sam in his arms, careful to keep his hardness from pressing into his brother.

Sam pulled both of Dean's arms around him, squeezing them together tightly and sighing, before whispering, "My turn."

Smiling that Sam seemed to feel like he did, that blowing him wasn't a favor, but something to be enjoyed for itself, Dean sighed, thankful. Sam pushed Dean onto his back and raised over him, bodies flush and leaned in to kiss Dean, licking along the slight cut he had created on Dean's lower lip.

Kissing down along Dean's sensitive neck, Sam licked and inhaled the smell of his Dean, the smell he dreamt of and had for years, smiling as he remembered times when it had been his turn to do laundry and he had just stood smelling some article of Dean's clothing, aching with the want of it, imagining this, smelling it from Dean's own skin. So much better. Moving further down, Sam flicked his tongue out to one of Dean's already hard nipples, earning a swift intake of breath when he took that nub into his mouth and sucked hard. Pinching and flicking the other nipple with his hand, Sam alternated, giving both sensitive peaks equal attention, loving the reaction this always got from Dean.

Sam moved to Dean's ribs, counting each one with a long lick of his tongue before licking around and then dipping into Dean's belly button. Lowering himself between Dean's strong legs, Sam laid a long lick along the hard, throbbing length of Dean's cock, earning a small whimper of need as well as a thrust of hips. He encircled Dean's head with his tongue, licking hard at the underside, hitting that sensitive spot, before taking Dean deep into his mouth, lapping and slurping the long length. Dean had been on the edge for too long, and his hips were already involuntarily rutting up into Sam's mouth, setting a fast tempo.

But Sam wasn't ready for this to end quickly. He released the mouthful of dick with a soft popping sound and looked up into the desperate eyes of his big brother. "Sam?" Dean's hips jerked hard, "Please? Need you to finish me. Please make me come, baby."

Sam nudged Dean's thighs apart, pushing his knees up so Dean's feet rested on the bed. Leaning down, he kissed the soft sac there, tongue licking out to trace along each side lightly. "Don't worry, Dean. You know I will take care of you. I just want to taste you, learn you."

Dean clenched his teeth tight, his hardness leaking as he strained to keep from begging. He didn't want this to end either, but fuck, he was so close, so frustrated. He moaned as Sam took his balls into that hot beautiful mouth, licking and sucking, alternating sides and felt the moan of Sam's own vibrate through him. Then he struggled to bring his head up when he felt Sam's fingers part his ass, spreading him apart. Then he keened Sam's name as he felt that soft, wet tongue touch him there, along his ass, touching that part of him only Sam had ever touched.

Licking hard, Sam reached up to stroke Dean's throbbing cock, knowing how close he was. He continued to lap at that puckered entrance, wanting Dean to know there was nothing he didn't want from him, no part of him he didn't need and love. This was something he had thought about and never knew if he really wanted until it happened, now he was enjoying it, knowing it was making Dean come apart under his hands and mouth.

"God, Sammy." Dean yelled as he came, back arching hard, his come spurting over Sam's hand and up his own chest. He came until his body felt weak, and Sam's hand on him was almost too much. Then Sam released him, looking up and smiling, his hand soothing Dean's hard muscled belly as he moved up to lay along his side, resting his head on his big brothers chest.

Dean didn't want to close his eyes, he looked down at his brother, still unable to believe this beautiful creature that he had cherished his whole life was truly his and wanted him this much. Sam was looking down Dean's body. He ran his fingers through the come cooling on Dean's lower abdomen and brought them to his lips, eyes raising to catch Dean's as he licked his fingers, then sucked them into his mouth.

"Fuck, Sam." He huffed out, feeling his cock twitch. How was that possible after how hard he had just come?

Sam's eyes hesitated, flickering away before coming back to meet Dean's. "Wrong?"

Grasping Sam's jaw and bringing their lips together, Dean ground his mouth hard into his little brother's, licking his way inside, tasting himself in Sam's mouth. "No. Hell no, baby. Nothing that you want to do with me is wrong. Actually, that was incredibly hot. You might just be the death of me, Sam. You make me crazy. Love you, baby boy."

Sam grinned, flashing those dimples and looking out from under a mess of bangs at his brother before throwing a leg over him, pressing his already semi erect dick against his brother's as he rolled over him. "Mmmm, I love you, Dean, so much. Now, you too tired to go again, baby?"

"With you? Never." And he smiled as Sam leaned in to kiss him, knowing that it was true.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean shut off the shower and reached for the towel hanging on the rack just outside the door. It was just after sunrise and Sam was still sleeping. The past week had been the best week of his life. Knowing he finally had the right and the option of touching Sam and loving him, well, it was like having a ten ton weight lifted off his chest. Like he could draw a deep breath for the first time in years.

He looked down at Sam, sprawled across the bed, sheet just barely covering him, a mass of arms and legs that seemed to go on forever and cover every available space. The urge to climb back into that bed and feel those limbs wrap around him, welcome him, was strong, but he had plans for today, and if he didn't go before Sam woke up he would have a hard time getting out alone.

Sam stretched himself awake, and realized that the bed was bereft of his brother's warmth. He didn't like waking up with Dean missing from the bed. It hadn't taken long for him to become dependent on that feeling, after all, he had waited a lifetime for it.

Rubbing his eyes with his palms and then through his hair, he stood and headed out to find Dean, intending to drag him back to bed. Maybe sleep a little more, definitely love him a lot more.

No Dean in the house, he walked out back and scanned the area, assuming he would find his brother laid out on the dock, sunning himself like a lazy cat. That was an image he had enjoyed several times in the last few days. It was a joy to see Dean relaxed and just soaking up the sun. No Dean outside either. Maybe he had gone for a run. Wherever he was, Sam felt a flicker of anger go through him knowing Dean had left without letting Sam know. Not ok.

Although he had no idea how early Dean had gotten up, he had been gone for what seemed like forever since he himself had woken up. He started to worry, and damnit Sam missed him. What a girl. Dean would tease him unmercifully if he knew he was feeling like this. Unable to help himself, he dialed Dean's number, and went from anger to uncertainty and fear when his call went unanswered.

They answered their phones. It was a given.

Sam stared at the phone as if it would give him an answer for what felt like an hour, which turned out to be all of three minutes before he dialed again and waited for Dean's whiskey honey voice to answer. Voicemail. Fuck.

He was pacing, hair practically standing on end from the multiple times he had run long fingers through it in the last twenty minutes when his phone rang, startling him more than it should.

"Dean!"

Sam's voice sounded panicked and Dean's protective instincts kicked in immediately, "Sam, whats wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's fucking wrong is that I woke up and you were gone, and then you don't answer your fucking phone, Dean? What are you doing that you can't answer your fucking phone?" Sam knew he sounded out of control, but was unable to get it in check.

"Sorry, man. I…uh, I didn't hear it. And I left you a note. Didn't you get it? It was on the pillow."

Sam registered the hesitation on the other end of the line and was no longer as reassured by hearing Dean's voice as he should have been. But he stomped into the bedroom, flinging blankets and pillows in every direction before noticing a small piece of paper on the floor next to Dean's side of the bed.

"Got it, but I didn't see it before. It was on the floor." Sam's voice sounded a little shaky, and Dean registered that fact.

"I will be back in just a little while. You ok?"

Sam felt deflated, "Yeah, I'm fine." He hung up before he said anything more. He couldn't think and talk to Dean at the same time. He dropped to the bed and reread the simple noting the lack of intimacy in the words.

Be back in a bit. Just gone into town for supplies and to change the oil in my baby.

-D

Silly Sam. He has always called that stupid car his baby. How can that possibly create a little twinge in you, after all? Fuck that, something else was up, and it was causing a churning in the pit of his stomach. He knew what the feeling was, but didn't want to think it. Dean had always had a huge sexual appetite and Sam wasn't stupid enough to pretend he didn't worry that Dean would miss sex with other people, but he wasn't ready to deal with that. It wasn't going to be ok if it happened, and with Dean not answering his phone, and that hitch in his voice when Sam questioned him, he feared that the time for dealing with that had come way sooner than even he expected.

Dean came in the door to a freshly showered and glowering Sam. He wasn't sure what was up, but was immediately on the defensive. "What is that look for, man?"

"Where were you really, Dean? That you couldn't answer your phone…twice." Sam looked edible, fuckable as he stood there wearing nothing but jeans, skin damp and tanned all to hell, glaring at Dean, but with an undercurrent of what looked like…fear? pain? in his eyes. Dean wasn't able to get a lock on it before Sam looked away.

"What are you implying Sam?" Dean demanded, not liking the implication.

"I don't think it is that difficult a question, Dean. No implication necessary. What were you doing that you couldn't answer your phone?"

Dean hesitated just a second too long. "I was changing the oil. You know…nothing. Shit Sam, what do you think I was doing."

Sam wasn't able to verbalize the fears running through his head. He didn't think he was really ready to hear any bullshit reassurances, true or not. He needed to just think, and hell, honestly he was glad Dean was back. Having him here, within reach was necessary. He was probably being stupid. He hoped he was being stupid.

Dean watched Sam's stiff back, not sure he liked the implications Sam was spewing. But, he knew if he spoke now he would say things he regretted. He didn't do well backed into a corner, and he wasn't used to answering to someone for his every waking moment either.

"Whatever." Sam turned and walked toward the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation.

Dean watched that loping grace of his brother's movements as he retreated, eyes lingering on all that soft skin over taut muscle, ass moving in those loose, low riding jeans. He felt a streak of lust make his cock twitch in his own jeans, but knew now would probably not be the time. Damn, he wanted to fuck the faithlessness right out of Sam's brain, right now, maybe right on the kitchen table.

Following Sam into the kitchen, Dean's eyes continued to linger. He dropped the two bags of groceries on the table and started putting things away, watching Sam make coffee. When he had finished storing the food, Dean sprawled into a chair, and caught his breath as Sam reached up to get something from the top shelf of a cabinet, his stomach tight and his jeans falling just a little lower.

Sam was wearing his underwear. Fuck. How was that hot enough to make him instantly, pantingly hard? He wanted to run his tongue along the waistband of those underwear, dipping inside, biting softly until Sam was as ready for him as he already was for Sam. But the vibe rolling off Sam right now was not saying 'fuck me' so much as 'fuck you', so Dean cursed quietly and drug himself out of the room.

Sam stood in the kitchen, watching through the window at Dean moving around outside. He walked down to the dock, and Sam sighed, wanting to go to him, to claim him and feel the response he knew he would find, no matter what. His lack of faith in Dean hurt all the way around, and he just hoped it was misplaced.

Hearing Sam approach, Dean waited, unsure what was coming. When long arms circled him from behind, wrapping around his hips, and bringing them to rest in the cradle of his brother's, he felt relief wash through him. Sam's mouth was close to his ear, voice raw. "Mine."

Dean's head dropped back onto Sam's shoulder, a shiver coursing through him. "Yeah. You know that, Sammy, you know it." And Dean knew what Sam had been thinking. It made him angry, but hell, maybe Sam just needed time to see that Dean was really in this. He wasn't going anywhere, and he sure as heaven, hell and everything in between wasn't going to let anyone take his Sammy away from him. Someday he would make Sam realize that as long as Sam would let him, he would make him the center of his world.

Turning into the embrace, Dean's mouth covered Sam's hungrily. They devoured each other, unable to get enough. Both conveying messages that they couldn't put into words yet.

Dean's hands framed Sam's face, his tongue seeking every detail of that beautiful mouth he couldn't stop thinking about. His fingers stroked Sam's jaw before tangling in his hair, pulling and sifting.

A whimper, neither sure who it had escaped from, sounded between them and they were sinking to their knees, hands frantically removing clothing as they went. Sam sat down, sliding his jeans off his hips, and Dean's hand came out to still him when he reached for the waistband of the boxer briefs. His eyes lingered on his own underwear encasing Sam's huge hard cock, saliva pooling in his mouth as he groaned softly. "Fuck. I love that you are wearing my underwear Sam. It's…damn, it's so sexy, so hot."

Dean leaned down, open mouth settling over the bulge there, licking and tasting the salty sweet pre come already gathering. He inhaled deeply, cock jerking when he realized he could smell Sam there, in his underwear, but he could also smell himself, and it hit him. Sam had taken a shower and then put on the underwear Dean had worn the day before. He got impossibly harder.

"Fuck, Sam." He gasped out, mouth open now on Sam's lower belly, licking and nipping before sucking a bruise along that gorgeous hipbone, hands making quick work of the underwear.

Sam's hands were fisted in Dean's hair, hips arching into his brother's hot mouth. "Yes, please."

Looking down, Sam watched as Dean pulled his shirt off, mouth never leaving Sam's lower belly more than a second at a time. Then his gaze caught on a bandage, wrapped around Dean's right wrist. "Dean?" He reached for his big brother's hand, and pulled it to his mouth. "You hurt? Did something happen?" He kissed the skin above the bandage, seeing blood that had pooled through the white gauze.

He whimpered slightly, worry for his beloved seeping out. He licked the skin around the bandage, inside Dean's arm. He loved this part of Dean, and often found himself latched on, laving the skin and feeling the strong steady heartbeat just under the flesh there, he didn't want to think something had hurt him, especially in such a vulnerable area.

Dean glanced up, looking at Sam through those thick eyelashes, "Just cut myself changing the oil. Nothin major. 'M fine." Dean shifted slightly and sunk his mouth completely over Sam's hard heavy cock, taking him as deep in that first stroke as he could, his moan sending a vibration shooting through Sam when he bottomed out into his brothers grasping throat.

"Come here." Sam pulled Dean forward, up his body, needing to feel all of him. "Wanna be inside you, Dean. Wanna feel you surrounding me, your tight heat working me. Wanna fuck you til you can't think of anything but me."

Dean bucked hard against Sam, those words creating an unbearable need inside him. "Never can, baby boy. Never can think of anything but you. Damn you are killing me, making me into a girl. But it's true, nothing compares to this, to you. Don't want anyone else. And you," he pulled Sam's face close to his, "you don't get anyone else no matter what you think."

Struggling to sit up, and pulling Dean with him, Sam rubbed his face against Dean's neck. "Don't want anyone else, Dean, never really have."

As Sam pulled Dean to straddle his thighs, Dean latched onto the spot on Sam's throat where he could see the pulse hammering through his veins, that tender skin between shoulder and neck, and sucked the bruise already there into full bloom. Sam arched into that sucking, hot mouth, loving that Dean always wanted him to wear that mark as much as he loved the feel of it being made.

Reaching up, Sam brought two of his fingers to his mouth, sucking them and catching Dean's attention. Dean moaned softly, watching Sam's sweet mouth close over his own digits and knowing how the inside of that mouth felt. Dean pulled those fingers out of Sam's mouth and put them into his own, running his tongue all over them, never losing the eye contact with his baby brother that showed him how badly he wanted him.

Sam shuddered and pulled his wet fingers out, swiping one across the head of Dean's straining cock and gathering the moisture there before reaching to find Dean's tight hole and pressing inside slowly. Dean whimpered at the sudden intrusion, back arching, bringing his cock between their hard muscled bellies. Sam's hard length strained upward, stroking along Dean's ass, seeking entrance.

Dean reached behind him, taking Sam's hot dick in his hand and squeezing, guiding it to his entrance as Sam removed his fingers. Clenching his teeth, Dean pressed Sam into him, loving the burn and the feeling of fullness, the pressure of Sam filling him.

"God, Dean. So good. So tight and hot, you feel so good around me." Arms full of Dean, Sam felt like there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't filled with Dean's presence, and still he wanted to be closer, wanted to draw Dean's skin around him, wanted to climb inside.

Pressing up into Dean, Sam pulled Dean's legs around his waist, so they were sitting chest to chest, Dean on his lap, Sam buried deep inside his beloved brother. "Love you, Dean."

"Love you, Sammy. So fucking much." And he moved, raising and lowering himself, a hiss escaping from his lips as the angle created incredible friction against that spot deep inside him.

They made love slow and deep, kisses sensual and wet.

When they sank down to lay on the pier, boneless and exhausted, Sam dropped his head to Dean's hipbone, relishing the feel of Dean's fingers sifting through his hair. "Sorry, Dean. I do trust you. Trust you with my heart. You have always taken care of me, I don't know why I would think you would hurt me now. Guess I just feel so open now that everything I've hidden so long is out there. And it's hard, because I know you have always…you know…been with so many women…I…"

Dean looked into Sam's eyes, his own earnest and dark, "There hasn't been anyone for a long time, Sam. I wanted you to think that, but I haven't slept with anyone in almost a year. I tried a couple of times, but it was just…wrong. I couldn't…"

"Me either, Dean. I guess you kinda knew that about me though, huh?" Sam grinned, looking out through too long bangs. He was so full of happiness, knowing Dean wanted him, had been wanting him for so long.

"I'm glad, Sam. Real glad." Dean ran a finger along Sam's lip, wet from his kisses.

"Won't do anything to hurt you, Sam. I'm raw and broken open too, you know. You just need to remember that if I could have had this, with you, I wouldn't have needed all the rest of…that…them."

Sam sighed, his cock twitching at the words that told him what he really meant, how much he was wanted by this gorgeous perfect man he had always adored. He trailed his fingers down the inside of Dean's thighs, coming over him and his tongue coming out to lick at the streaks of come on his lower abdomen. "I love the way you taste, Dean. Mmmm…"

Dean moaned and raised his head to watch Sam licking at his come, spread across his belly, unable to believe he was already getting hard again. "So damn sexy, Sam. That's…shit."

Sam smiled up at him, eyes flashing through those disheveled bangs, causing Dean's heart to hitch in his chest. Growling deep, Dean dragged Sam up his body, tasting his essence on his baby's lips and tongue as he dove inside to kiss Sam, feeling himself hardening further.

* * *

"Let me check this." Sam's fingers traced softly over the bandage at Dean's inner wrist. He could tell it had been changed recently, but Sam wanted to take care of it for Dean. Dean smiled, eyes lit with happiness, and he settled back onto the bed, arm extended.

Sam carefully peeled the edges of the bandage back, and frowned at what he saw. Dean wasn't hurt. It looked like…he had gotten a tattoo there. It almost looked like a barcode, tall close set letters. Sam's brow puckered as he looked closer, and tears began to flow as he saw what was written there, permanently etched into his adored brother's soft skin. SW XI/II/MCMLXXXIII It was his own initials, and in roman numerals, the date Dean had carried him from the house fire when he had been just six months old. The date Dean marked in his mind and heart as the day Sam had become his.

Dean watched Sam's face intently, saw the moment recognition spread across those beloved features and he felt tears prick his own eyes as they flowed down Sam's face, running along his sharp jawline to drop on Dean's bare belly.

"Dean?" Sam sobbed quietly, unable to believe, register what this meant. Dean had branded his own skin, in that place Sam had often marked him as his own. Dean had put a permanent mark announcing to the world who he loved. "God, Dean…I…" He was unable to continue, throwing himself over Dean's lap and crushing his mouth in a kiss, tongue delving inside to claim the flavor of his brother.

Dean lost himself in the kiss and then smiled when Sam drew back, skirting his fingers along his baby brother's cheek, smoothing away the tears, "You like it, Sammy? I wanted you to know that I'm yours. Totally and completely. I'm in this forever, baby boy. And I want everyone to know it, see it."

Sam's fingers hadn't stopped brushing that mark, and he huffed out a harsh breath. "Jesus, Dean. I love you. I love you so much. You have no idea what this means to me. Mine." His dimples were so deep, Dean wanted to lick them, stick his tongue in them. It was worth it just to see those dimples, hell, that was worth everything.

When it occurred to Sam that this was what Dean had left to do the other day, why he hadn't answered his phone he felt guilt sear him. "Oh. Dean, this is why…that day…I'm so sorry. I…"

Dean cut him off, a finger brushing along his lower lip, "Its ok, Sammy. It's ok."

They spent the rest of the day making love, devouring each other. Sam couldn't seem to give enough, as if he were thanking Dean with his body, heart and soul for the gesture Dean so willingly gave.

The last few days of their reprieve melted away in a haze of love and lust and need and sharing, until the morning came and they knew it was time to go. "Sam? You know it has to end. But this is just our beginning, or even our continuation. Hell, it's just us, against the world, baby. Now we have this…"

Sam ran his fingers down Dean's bare, tanned torso, grinning happily. "Yeah, you and me, Dean. I hate for this vacation to end, but you are right. It's a beginning and I'm excited, happy."

Packing up, they both cast lingering looks around the house as they prepared to leave. So many memories, all the places they had made love, explored and discovered each other. This was an idyll that they would both cherish for the rest of their lives.

* * *

The waitress, the same stupid damn waitress they had had the first time, came to the table, eyeing Dean with an inviting smile. Sam tensed slightly, and Dean was tuned in enough to Sam's every feeling that he saw it, not that he had any intention of forgetting the last time or any desire to hurt Sam even if he wanted to flirt with this unimportant girl. "What can I get you?" she purred.

Dean's eyes never left Sam's face as he slid his right arm across the table to reach for his brother, palm up, his long sleeved flannel shirt riding up just enough to expose the tattoo inside his wrist. Sam's eyes flicked up to meet Dean's as his fingers unconsciously came up to trace that soft skin, and a smile as beautiful as the dawn flooded his face.

The waitress drew in a quick gasp as she saw Sam's smile. And she stared, thinking maybe she had originally wanted the wrong one, not that it mattered, because she saw the look. That look. It clearly said that they belonged to each other, not in a 'boyfriend, we're dating' sort of way, but in a 'you are the only thing that matters in my life' sort of way. She felt a flutter of sweetness deep in her belly as she watched them, lost in their own world.

"Do you you know what you want, baby?" Dean said, his voice strummed over Sam's ears like a caress.

After they ordered and the waitress had left them, Dean watched Sam's fingers as they continued to caress his wrist. That touch, just there, never failed to set a flame inside Dean's gut. He couldn't name all the things it did to him, but he knew he felt warm and cherished and always with a strong streak of deep want for Sam when he felt that and watched Sam's fingers ghosting over that mark. He couldn't seem to stop touching it and Dean hoped he never would.

"Thanks, Dean." Sam whispered, his eyes meeting the gorgeous green eyes across the table, eyes that never failed to move him as they allowed a look into a soul so much more pure and beautiful than Dean would ever comprehend.

A crease formed between Dean's brows, "For what, Sammy?"

One side of his mouth quirked up in that Sammy way, "The waitress. Thanks for not flirting, for showing her, telling her that you belong to me."

"Hell, Sam. That's not something to thank me for. I only wish I could take back all the times I flirted, when all I wanted was you. When flirting was my escape, my cover. Looking at all of them kept me from looking at what I wanted and couldn't have. I always wanted you, baby boy. I just drowned all that as best I could by pretending."

Dean's eyes lingered on Sam's lips, those lips that held so many of his favorite things. The kisses that melted his heart, the voice that went through him like a hot knife through butter, the smiles that he knew would light up his life no matter how dark the night, the tongue that knew all the ways he wanted to be caressed. He loved that particular smile, his Sammy smile, just a little shy and uncertain, and yet so damn sexy in ways Sam never really got about himself.

"I love you so much, Dean. I wish I could come close to explaining it to you."

"Ah, Sam. If its half as much as I love you…" Dean blushed a little and Sam felt the tug of love deep inside himself, causing his heart to stutter a few beats. "Hell, you know…I just love you. More than I know how to say, I'm no good with words."

"Oh, you do ok, big brother. You say so much more than you realize."

They ate, knees brushing in silent communication under the diner table, sidelong glances conveying all that needed to be said, then parted to take care of things before they headed out on the road.

Spending the day in the car was both routine and yet unique. They listened to the same crappy tapes Sam complained about all the time and Dean loved, but they touched. It seemed that someone's fingers were always straying across the car, Sam's lingering on Dean's wrist or stubbled jawline, Dean's resting on Sam's thigh, or sifting through silky hair.

Dean wondered several times about Sam's hesitancy with him in regards to touching his neck, that spot Dean loved. Sam had pulled away the last two days as they made love whenever Dean's mouth wanted to linger there in that groove between throat and shoulder, and Dean was a little hurt, and more than a little confused.

Today he had brushed his fingers across that small expanse of skin and Sam had jerked away as if burned. Was Sam refusing Dean because he didn't want to be seen with Dean's mark on him in public? Maybe he felt strange and had avoided that so that now, when they were again on the road and not secluded he wouldn't bear that brand that said he belonged to Dean. That thought burned a little in Dean's stomach and he tried to steer his thoughts clear of it, silently resolving to make mention of it when they stopped for the night. After all, Sam wanted to talk. They were supposed to talk these things out, right?

Sam knew his mouth must be hanging open when they walked into the dingy motel office and Dean answered clearly and concisely, "One king." To the oft asked question. But his surprise was quickly replaced with a huge grin and a deep burn in his gut when Dean reached subtly for his hand as the manager checked them in and handed over the keys.

"I have a surprise for you, Dean." Sam announced quietly after they were settled into the room, sprawled across the one bed, second beers in hand.

Dean turned his head to look at Sam, interest piqued, "Mmm?"

Sam ducked his head, suddenly a little embarrassed, "I mean, well, I didn't buy you anything or whatever. Just something….you know…hell…."

Dean smiled and set his now empty bottle on the bedside table, and threw his leg over Sam, coming over him and looking down into that sweet face, at once so innocent and sensual, the face of everything Dean had ever wanted. "What is it, Sammy?" He brushed the back of his knuckles across the slight blush that had formed high on his baby brother's cheekbones.

Reaching up, Sam pulled his faded t shirt over his head and cocked his head to the side, exposing the left side of his neck to Dean's gaze. Dean's world tilted on its axis as he saw the tattoo on Sam's neck, one to match his own newly acquired one. DW XI/II/MCMLXXXIII His eyes squeezed shut for a long moment as he struggled to get his emotions into some semblance of control.

Sam looked slightly unsure. "Do you like it, Dean? Is…is it ok?" He continued, his words coming out in a rush, "I had it done this morning, so I need to cover it back up, but I wanted to show it to you, I couldn't wait. I…it's the reason I didn't want you to suck me there. I knew I couldn't get the tattoo if the skin was bruised." And that had been hard. Sam loved the feel of Dean pulling that skin deep into his mouth, of knowing Dean wanted to mark him in a primitive way, to tell the world Sam was his mate.

"Sammy." Dean's voice broke and he paused and drew a deep breath. "It's fucking perfect. Just like you, Sam, just perfect. Thank you baby boy." He leaned in, hot breath wafting over the highly sensitized skin. He licked around it, just avoiding the newly inked skin by millimeters before his voice rasped out in Sam's ear, "Mine. All mine, baby."

Then they were kissing. Soul wrenching kisses, Dean's hands framing his beloved's face, Sam's fingers twisting and clutching in Dean's short hair. They explored each other's mouths, sucking in the taste of each other, claiming and possessing, mouths slanting and reaching, striving for more. Teeth biting at lips suddenly raw and sensitive, tongues exploring and licking.

* * *

Sam looked over at Dean, who was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, right hand skimming absent mindedly over the bandage on Sam's neck as he sang quietly with the radio. He remembered the night before when Dean had pulled away, leaving Sam frustrated and trying to pull him back. Dean had gotten up and found the first aid kit in his duffel and had carefully applied ointment and this fresh gauze to Sam's neck, his eyes resting reverently on the brand before cautiously covering it up. Reaching up, he took Dean's fingers into his own, brushing over the tattoo on his wrist before bringing both their hands to rest on Dean's hard thigh. Dean glanced at him, eyes shining as a smile stole across his face in the fading light.

They hadn't discussed it yet, but Dean was ready and he knew Sam would be willing. He wanted to stop hunting, or at least try. Try to settle down somewhere and be 'normal', give Sam a home and a life he could live without worry. Soon. He was going to suggest it and watch his Sammy light up as he let the stress and constant fear of this life they had led for too long slip away.

But for now, for this moment, they traveled the road together, both now bearing the marks on their skin as well as their hearts and souls of who they truly belonged to.


End file.
